My day starts very early, 0400, due mostly to the demands of an aging diabetic pain in the ass cat but there is also the daily drudgery that most face of going to work.
So the following convo happened just the other day. For the sake of my poor wife I wish I could say this was an isolated incident but it isn’t. In fact she seems to enjoy things like this which makes her as odd as I and that is perfect.
…….. a multi note salute and the TV flickers to life…..
A pleasant looking female newscaster smiles declaring, “In today’s headlines. Another patient is diagnosed with Ebola at…”
“Right. That seals it,” I say as my wife is arranging the cat food bowls.
“What?” she mumbles.
“I’m ordering you a cricket bat.”
Looking at me puzzled, again she asks. “What?”
Pointing to the TV screen, I inform her. “I have been thinking about this for a while and this seals it.”
Looking behind me she tries to figure out what I am talking about. “How does another Ebola diagnosis lead you ordering me a cricket bat?”
Looking incredulously at her, my arms flying up in the air I loudly inform her and the cats, “This is what, four of 5 people now here in the states, and it started in a different country. Hello. It is spreading like crazy. It is only a matter of a few days before we have a horde invasion on our hands.”
Laughing at me, “You’re silly. I still don’t see why I need a cricket bat.”
Still incredulous, “You need something to bash them on the head. Did you learn nothing from Mr. Pegg’s portrayal of Shaun?”
Shaking her head she goes back to feeing the cats who could all care less about out eminent demise.
“This is Ebola, not Zombies.”
“Oh you say that now. Just wait. When the disease infested masses are clambering at the front door,” wagging my finger at her, “you’ll be grateful for the cricket bat.”
“And why do I get the cricket bat?”
Ticking off the reasons on my fingers, “You’re smaller than me, you have lighter hair, and your much more nimble than I am. I am more of a blunt lummox, so you are obviously Shawn and I’m Ed.”
Setting the bowls down in front of the mewling children she informs me, “We don’t need a cricket bat. There won’t be any incursion. There are few people with Ebola and that is all. No need to bash them on the head.”
My shoulders slumping, “It’ll be an invasion not an incursion. And Ebola or zombies, doesn’t matter, still say just bash them in the head.”
Shooing me away like a child, “Go. Get ready for work.”
“You take the fun out of everything.” I sulk off to ready myself for another day of being a mindless automaton. “Won’t let me bash anybody’s head in.”
“When the zombie apocalypse happens, I’ll let you have the first crack at them. OK?”
Rapidly clapping my hands together exclaiming, “yeah” I smile at her.
I truly feel sorry for her somedays.