Lauren walked into the room & immediately started tidying up. Mumbling to herself as she snatched each item.."newspapers here, half empty beer can there, a sock",---a sock, she thinks to herself. Who on earth walks around with one sock on?I mean really? Come on, he doesn't know he's missing a sock? "Stupid men!"Well, stupid him anyway, she thinks. She knows she keeps lumping them all together based on this particular one.That certainly isn't fair and she reminds herself of that fact. And, anyway, she thinks, how can she keep complaining when she chooses this life with him? This is true obviously. She works all day, she's home before him & she chooses to clean up after him. Why? Is it because she thinks he's never going to touch these objects again? Or, because she knows that this just gives her more ammunition against him. (This is the way her grudges keep building.) Her anger towards him brews like a bulging volcano. Why is it that while she plots & boils, he, on the other hand, is truly, completely, utterly clueless. Really. He didn't realize that when he went to bed last night he had left the newspaper right where it landed after he'd read it. That when he took his last drink of the beer that it was actually going to be his last. Shoot there was still some left, he might finish it later. Then the News came on and he flipped his legs up onto the couch, hands behind his head for his makeshift pillow, and started scratchin his big toe with his other big toe. Off came one sock. Itch got scratched. And the sock is left right where it landed. Right there next to the coffee table. He falls asleep to the News. Wakes just as the pretty blond weatherlady repeats her weather report for probably the third time. He watches for his second time. Clearly, not concerned with making sure anything changed in the last half hour. He just likes the tone of her voice and he likes the way it seems like she talking right to him, so sweet, kind of giggly, eyelashes fluttering,.. Anyway, off to bed where his wife's been sleeping for the past hour and a half.
Well, actually, after she tidied up-ticked off, then she made dinner--angry, ate dinner with her husband-"damn pig, look at how he chews", then she showered-"stupid creep, leaving his hairs all over the tub", and into bed-"yeah, you watch the t.v. in the living room" simmering....He climbs in to bed, gets comfortable, and falls instantly back to sleep. And she thinks, "God, listen to him breathe! In Out In Out Ugh!"
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