Husband
Baby, It’s Cold Inside.
[This whimsical banter occured during summer time]
Let's face it, all women are COLD!!! They are like addicts, never willing to admit they are one with the problem. It's always someone else with the problem.
"Close the window! It's freezing in here!" she commands.
"Honey," I respond, "it's 78 degrees in here."
"LIAR!!!" she accuses. "That thermostat obviously is broken."
Reluctantly, I turn up the temperature, mindful of the huge power bill I will receive in the near future.
My son walks into the room, totally unaware of our conversation. She turns her attention to him.
"I'm not the one with the problem! I'm normal!" she screams, as if to convince herself and those around her.
My son looks at me with a quizzical look. We both shrug our shoulders. He continues on, out of the room without saying a word.
Once one woman starts complaining, every other female within 50-100 feet joins in a cacophony of WHINE.
Could be why the band Foreigner released the song, "You're as cold as ice!" Some songs really have a double meaning.
A quick observation reveals she is not wearing any socks, and that she is wearing a thin top and pants. I don't claim to be a genius, but I suggest to her that she might want to put on some socks and a sweater.
"That's not going to help any!" she barks back. "You don't love me. You want me to freeze in this igloo!"
"Men!" she mutters, as she stomps off down the hall. "They are so insensitive to our needs."
I'm left speechless…and sweating.
The Stove
OK…here's the story. I turn on the front burner. My wife says, "Don't use that burner. It only goes directly to hot." So I turn it off and turn on the back burner. Then she says, "Don't use that burner either. It doesn't work. It must have something to do with you not seating the 2-burner module properly when you removed it yesterday to clean under it." So I turn off that burner.
I pull out the 2-burner module and flip over the module to check the bottom. Why? That is a question I have asked myself several times since the event, considering there's nothing on the bottom of the module. Now this is where the story gets interesting.
The full weight of the module, burner side down, came to rest on the inside of my tender, yet supple, upper arm. Problem was (remember what my wife said about the front burner?) the burner was still extremely hot. I didn't think it had time to heat up since I turned it off so quickly. Apparently, I was wrong.
The front burner seared into my flesh like a hot branding iron leaving 7 distinct impressions of the coils of the burner. The first thought that came into my mind was, "Golly Gee. That's awfully hot!"
I screamed like a little girl and dropped the module onto the stove and ran to the sink to put cold water onto the burns. My wife, hearing my cries, came running from the living room. "What happened?" her concerned voice asked.
"I burned myself on the stove!" as I sniffled and showed her my blistering 2nd degree burn wounds. Her mouth fell open in amazement and, as any caring woman of heart-felt sensitivity would convey in an emergency situation, said "Boy, that was a stupid thing to do!" "Why would you do that?"
I thought to myself, "Why didn't I think to ask myself that question?"
I went to the doctor this morning. "Why are you here?" he asked.
"I burned myself," hoping for some needed sympathy as I pulled up my sleeve and revealed the extensive damage. Instead of sympathy, he chuckled and paused for just a moment, as if he had just received an epiphany, "say that looks like the coils of a stove burner!" "Is that a 'GE' logo in the middle of the burns?"
"Ha-ha…don't give up on your day job, Doc."
Needless to say, with the potential of long-term scarring, I'm thinking people might see the scars on my arms and confuse me with being a gangbanger. What sup, dog?!