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Rated: E · Other · Relationship · #1023713
A story of life after the honeymoon and before the blue hair and slot machines.
Eventually it happens to all married couples. Bedtime comes, and you both get ready and hop in the bed, and prepare to tell each other goodnight. That’s when you notice it: the fear of every man. She has curlers in her hair.

I am sure that somewhere in this universe, there is some sick person that has dedicated an entire 5000 page website to women with curlers in their hair. And though there are probably 5 million visitors to that site everyday, I must admit that I am not one of them.

I have seen many women in curlers; my mother, sister, grandmother, aunts, and other assorted people in my life. And I understand that some women need these things to make their hair do things that it just won’t do naturally. I am all-ok with that.

But when I roll over in bed, and see visions of rollers dancing on my wife’s head, there is only one thought that comes to mind: Gladys.

Yes, friends, we are talking about Gladys Kravitz of the famed TV show Bewitched. I can see both her and Mr. Kravitz in their room, him lying down reading a copy of “How To Ignore Your Wife” magazine, and her peeping through the curtains, certain that at any moment Samantha will conjure up a circus parade in the middle of the night.

“ABNER!” she would scream. And of course no matter what she told him, he always had a way to explain away what she saw. Truly, all husbands must envy his ability to take things so calmly, especially when your wife tells you that her neighbor has turned into a monkey.

Anywho, there I was, just lying there reading my copy of “The Husbands Guide To Being Calm When Your Wife Tells You That Your Neighbor Has Turned Into A Monkey” when suddenly Gladys appears in my bed. What do you do in a situation like that?

I could have cried out in fear. I could have covered my head and trembled. I could have even pretended not to notice, and kept my feelings deep inside me. Instead, I did the one thing you should not do: I yelled “Gladys” and laughed my tail off.

I must admit, this did not go over well. And I am sure that I will be paying for this for days. No matter how much explaining I do, she still keeps asking me who this “Gladys” woman really is, and accuses me of calling her an old girlfriend’s name.

Things have calmed down a bit since that night, and I have learned my lesson. And I can truthfully report that I have not seen her in curlers the last few nights.

Then again, it’s hard to see anything while you are outside sleeping with the dog.
© Copyright 2005 Rick Quick (rikquik at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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