Sunday, December 9, 2012

Rant on a Hot Tin Roof


A rerun for the Twisted Scottish Bastard who worries that I'm a tad unfair to my sweetie. I ask you TSB how would your wife exact revenge?

"Dammit Rob," belly down, I scootch to the edge of the roof, "get me down."

Silence.

Heat pricks my spine and a lock of hair sticks to my cheek. I can't believe he took the ladder. Who does that? "ROB. DAMMIT."

He's in the house drinking a beer. I can tell. He thinks he's funny only the next time the sewer pipe needs to be snaked he can damned well do it himself. I quit. At least I'd quit if I could get off the roof.

"Listen you son oF A ... "

The dogs race into the backyard and spin in circles til I groan. They look up, settle on their haunches and cock their heads. "Get Daddy." I tell them. They look at each other and glance back at me. I swear they're amused. "Go," I jerk an arm toward the sliding door beneath me, "Get. Daddy."

They bound into the house as I strip off dirt streaked gloves and judge the distance to the pool.

"Too chicken to jump?"

I jerk upright. Rob stands on the patio and tilts a iced bottle of beer to his lips. He's smug. Too smug for a man with a diminishing life span. "Get. Me. Down."

"No, I think you need to get rid of that attitude before I bring back the ladder." Whistling, he disappears into the house.

It's summer. It's Florida. I'm not losing the attitude til the first cold snap in November. When anger overrides fear I sit down, roll over and shimmy back to the edge. My legs dangle in midair but I shove down the panic and kick back til I collide with the fence top.

Ten seconds later I barrel into the house but it's quiet. Too quiet. And then I peer through the plate glass window. Rob's across the street chatting with George. The dogs are with him. He spots me and hoists his beer bottle in salute.

Why that son oF A ...

30 comments:

  1. I remember this one! Had this happened to me (30 years ago) hubby would have a permanent limp. Nowadays, you won't catch me on a roof, period.

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  2. Ha ha ha! I think that'll teach you to NOT help with the sewer or any other roof related chores anymore. I say it's his job from now on.

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    1. I don't mind crawling on the roof as long as I don't have to visit the car dealership ever again.

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  3. Well, maybe you could think of it like this. He has total confidence in you and your abilities...nah- just go for revenge.

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  4. OMG, I can not believe he left you stranded on the roof! That is nuts!! I think I would have had to hurt him when I ever got down. I sure wouldn't help him again. LOL He would be on his own.

    Kathy
    http://gigglingtruckerswife.blogspot.com

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  5. Rob's got to be: a total hunk with all the right moves: a man with a death wish: really does care about sex that much: or a man who had good reason to leave you up there. Great post, Kelly.

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    1. Gosh Dannie do I have to choose or can I check off all four?
      (I gripe and he pushes my buttons. Good thing he makes me laugh!)

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  6. Replies
    1. You so easy to please Missie, I'm sending you the deluxe super size Hershey bar

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  7. I love your beautiful blog and so enjoy your posts.

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  8. "Diminishing Gene Pool" has been included in this weeks Sites To See. I hope this helps to point many new visitors in your direction.

    http://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2012/12/sites-to-see_14.html

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  9. Stab him, no jury in the world would hold you guilty.

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    1. Hmm, are there more men or women on this jury?

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  10. Hey, not ever doing the Roto-rooter thing will teach him.
    I wish you a very merry Christmas.

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  11. It's obvious (still and again) that you deserved to be stranded up there. And when you let him out of the basement, I think we should hear his side of the story.

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    1. I never deny a fit a pique but you sir are a brat and I know brats. Have a very merry Christmas Mike

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  12. What a hoot - at least in retrospect. Coming down off of the roof, if it had been *me*? He would have been Gravely Injured. Trust me, I've got a hunky fella with a warped sense of humor who thinks he's Very Funny. I'd kneecap him with the sledgehammer. I'm not even kidding. Of course, I'm also *terrified* of heights. I can have a panic attack standing on a chair... which is probably why the only way you can get me more even chair-height off the floor is with a millipede or earwig - and then no one's sure if the B-movie Queen shrieking is because of the bug or the heights.

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  13. Hi, I have nominated you for a Liebster Blog Award, the details can be found here: http://caffeineandchapters.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/the-liebster-award.html please don't feel obligated, it is just a bit of fun :)

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  14. Very tongue and cheek:) Neat post:)

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  15. I lived in Florida for 7 years until I grew weary of sweating while eating my supper with 2 air-conditioners on.

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