Cooler heads are impaled.
No, that's not it.
Cooler heads purr "fail?"
I don't think so.
Cooler heads get tail.
Yeah right.
Cooler heads…What do they do? I'm not really a cooler head type guy. I seethe and boil. I figure when I die, somebody's gonna pull the tab on the back of my head and find my brain been roasting in it's juices to a moist, fall from the skull goodness. Just like Spam.
MyUnwife? Good lord no! I think during the extent of our marriage we wrestled for who could reach the passive aggressive implosion first. Competitive as we were, the score probably came to a dead draw. An inspired competition because the loser's role became the voice of reason. Who want's that job? Why not just sign me up for a cleaning a concert Porta-potty while you're at it. The voice of reason requires thought and patience. Which one of us looks like we wanted that? Which one of us looks like we even know how to twitch those muscles?
It's kind of like a game my ex-roommate, Sammy, and I used to play. We knew this guy, JD, who was a nice guy, but was also a serious mooch. More so, a mooch without a car. He'd come over eat our food, play our video games, and borrow our—SAMMY'S—CDs. Then when it was time to kick him out, one of us would have to drive JD home. Thus the competition began. The first one to bed, didn't have waste gas.
"Dude, I'm tired."
"It's only 5 pm."
"I've got work in the morning."
"What time?"
"9?"
"And you're going to bed now?
"Long weekend. Oh so tired."
"Ok, but I'm ordering pizza."
"I guess I could stay up for that."
"Good, pay the delivery boy when he arrives. I'm going to bed."
It was brutal. But I got plenty of beauty sleep. Yeah, I know, it didn't do any long term good. It was all wasted on my youth. What? Oh don't worry about JD, he either wasn't that bright or didn't care what we thought. Think of him as a lost puppy: It's all in the tone of the voice.
It's the same way with the voice of reason: not what you say, but how you say it, only the stakes are much higher. One misplaced acute, grave, or circumflex could sound like hot death on an open spit.
"Honey, why don't you put down the axe?"
"Where would you like me to leave it?"
"The floor would be fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, why don't you come and watch some TV. How about a snack? You like snacks. Pookie want a snack? Pookies like snacks! Yes they do!"
That's the battle for abandon with MyUnwife. Since the friendly divorce cogs started spinning, it's been the exact opposite (except the abandon part. She won that--Oh, sorry I think I have to go back 3 "friendly" squares for that.). We're racing to be the cooler bobble head.
"After you,"
"No, No, After you."
"No, I insist, you first."
"I wouldn't dream of it…"
It's a wonder anything gets done at all. Then again, it really hasn't has it?
Well you know the last few days I've been feeling a little volatile. Sort of like the 15 year old dynamite in your uncles desert shed, only more sweaty.
While paying the bills, something dropped. We have one joint account left. It's still there because we needed last minute money laundering. I'm kidding. Some bills still needed splitting, and electronic transfer seemed most appropriate. We met in a chatroom, we'd end in an electronic transfer--not a whisper. I'm closing the account next week. It just seemed easier to do on vacation. Today, while paying bills, I noticed the balance sat much lower than last week.
What the heck?
Ok, my word wasn't "heck" but I used my allotted vulgarity quota in yesterday's blog. I can't use anything stronger that "dagnabit!" until the new year.
I checked withdrawals and noticed that she's paid her bills from the joint account.
That silly little girl!
So I sent her an email. My first thought was, "it's got to be a mistake." But then the other voices kicked in.
"She's embezzling!"
"She's feeding her pool-boy a day habit!"
"She just withdrew the money and set it on fire just to spite you!"
These would be the same voices who suggest great things to do while you're drunk, and tattle what the rest of the world is plotting when you feel paranoid. I emailed her.
"How come you’re using the main account? That was electricity money!"
See? Cooler heads. They'd be on somebody else's beer.
She apparently found a cooler head on a pike in her front yard, and juiced it for what it was worth, because she emailed me back. A well written apologetic thing, explaining what had happened, and the it was (as the first voice in my head suggested) an accident.
That's right. Leaving me to look like a not so nice guy. She even twisted the blade with an "I feel so stupid" comment.
Nice, play.
She gets the "teacher's pet" gold star, I just get the "Robby doesn't play well with others" stare.
Prevail! That's what cool heads do! That's MyUnwife, always sharing my shortcomings.
I need to get me a case of those "cooler head" things for the next battle. If I have to, I'll throw them like snowballs. One way or another, I will prevail.
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