HYSTERICAL PREGNANCY
It didn't sit too well when i left the A&A company Xmas party and had to drive home alone, leaving the Mrs. to take a cab back to McNally's place. I was getting tired of driving 80 miles by myself to a dark, cold house, scrounging something to eat, starting a fire, listening to the radio, then getting up at 4am and doing it all over again. Mrs. Y wasn't a morning person and the few times we tried the commute together it didn't quite work out. The next day i had another plan. "What if you quit your job, and stay home?" I proposed." I'm making enough to cover the nut. Maybe we can even think of getting pregnant?" I was expecting a fight, but to my surprize she accepted my offer. Careful what you wish for.
Rich, poor, smart, stupid, nice, and not so nice people have kids every day. It's as natural for humans as shitting in their own nests and going to war. But, for Mrs.Y and I it was a very heavy and considered step in our relationship. Neither of us had ever had kids, or for that matter even considered it. We didn't waste any time getting down to business. And before you could say "How are we ever gonna pay for this?" Mrs. Yummy thought she was preggers. But something didn't seem quite right. Like that wedding....it should have been a joyous occasion for both of us. But there was that boinked on the head, 1000 yard stare. I went to the Exxon station and got the test kit. By the time she emerged from the bathroom a relieved smile crossed her face. False alarm.
That winter was one of the toughest of the century- cold and snowfall wise. We heated by wood and the house was barely insulated. Growing up in Brooklyn, Mrs Y never learned how to drive. When i took the truck to the city each morning she was trapped. "Make sure you pick me up cigarettes." she said, kissing me goodbye. We had no TV and during those dark winter days my city girl wife began to go stir crazy. God help me if i ever forgot those yellow American Spirits. On the weekends I continued work on the house and was exhausted most of the time. After all week in solitare, Mrs. Y wanted to play. "Sorry honey. I've got a headache."
The tables turned. I was the girl.
By the time spring rolled around the Mrs. insisted on learning to drive and getting a job (waitressing again). It was time to start the garden and Mrs Y threw herself into the task. She had been watching gardening videos for two years and was chomping at the bit to grow something. I was encouraging. The homefront was getting tense. When the job and wheels didn't lighten the mood, the garden was the only thing left. She borrowed a tiller and went at it, digging up a chunk of lawn. I built a fence to keep out the critters and we watered and waited. With the warm weather the chill of winter became a distant memory. Maybe we could try again with that baby thing? Fugettaboutit!
Rich, poor, smart, stupid, nice, and not so nice people have kids every day. It's as natural for humans as shitting in their own nests and going to war. But, for Mrs.Y and I it was a very heavy and considered step in our relationship. Neither of us had ever had kids, or for that matter even considered it. We didn't waste any time getting down to business. And before you could say "How are we ever gonna pay for this?" Mrs. Yummy thought she was preggers. But something didn't seem quite right. Like that wedding....it should have been a joyous occasion for both of us. But there was that boinked on the head, 1000 yard stare. I went to the Exxon station and got the test kit. By the time she emerged from the bathroom a relieved smile crossed her face. False alarm.
That winter was one of the toughest of the century- cold and snowfall wise. We heated by wood and the house was barely insulated. Growing up in Brooklyn, Mrs Y never learned how to drive. When i took the truck to the city each morning she was trapped. "Make sure you pick me up cigarettes." she said, kissing me goodbye. We had no TV and during those dark winter days my city girl wife began to go stir crazy. God help me if i ever forgot those yellow American Spirits. On the weekends I continued work on the house and was exhausted most of the time. After all week in solitare, Mrs. Y wanted to play. "Sorry honey. I've got a headache."
The tables turned. I was the girl.
By the time spring rolled around the Mrs. insisted on learning to drive and getting a job (waitressing again). It was time to start the garden and Mrs Y threw herself into the task. She had been watching gardening videos for two years and was chomping at the bit to grow something. I was encouraging. The homefront was getting tense. When the job and wheels didn't lighten the mood, the garden was the only thing left. She borrowed a tiller and went at it, digging up a chunk of lawn. I built a fence to keep out the critters and we watered and waited. With the warm weather the chill of winter became a distant memory. Maybe we could try again with that baby thing? Fugettaboutit!
posted by mike osterhout at 9:10 AM
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