This morning, I was feeling kind of down, alright maybe hormonal is a better descriptor. We were sitting at the breakfast table with our oatmeal when Sid grabs my hand, lifts it to his lips and says, “Thank you Mama for the breakfast, but I love the hands that prepared it even more.”
“Ohhh, nooooo.”
“Good Grief!”
“I can’t look Lincoln. Tell me when its over.”
“Is it over?’
“No, now Mama is kissing Daddy’s hand.” (I might have drug this out a little to prolong their groaning agony.)
Then my Prince Charming declares, “Boys, a good wife is a treasure.” (Hmmmm . . . . .I’m thinking this sounds good– real deep and philosophical).
“A treasure that a pirate buries, because he has only one eye. He buries it real deep.” (Huh?)
“Then he gets some disease and dies.” The boys have stopped their groaning and sit silently looking at Sid. I am sitting silently, looking at him and wondering when he is going to bring the focus back around to that good wife thing.
“And he falls into the water and is eaten by sharks. Actually, his men throw him overboard to the sharks after he dies, because they didn’t really like him anyway.” (Me suspects he is making this up as he goes along. You think?)
“Anyway, boys, a good wife is a treasure.”
Ah, a good man may lose focus sometimes, but eventually he comes back around to what is important.
Prairie Sings 