12 Dec 2014
It is the time of the year when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage is busy doing 101 things in as many directions: cookies to bake, presents to buy, Christmas cards to address and send and a thousand other things I probably am not aware of. My job is to make her job easier by staying out of her way.
Usually I am rather good at my job. It has taken many years to perfect my job and I am proud to say I have achieved somewhat perfection. But this week I was caught unawares.
During this time of year, I make it a practice to stay away from the kitchen area as much as possible. This past week, I do not know what I was thinking, but I went into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. On the surface, it looked rather innocent.
I finished pouring my coffee and turned to exit the kitchen area as quickly as possible when I ran into you know who.
“I’m so busy I was wondering if you might do me just a little favor.” The seductive sound of her voice caught me off guard and I stopped and said the unthinkable. At the time I forgot that a “little favor” has nothing to do with “little.”
“I will be glad to help anyway I can.” After those words tumbled out of my mouth, I could not believe that it was me actually saying those words. In my right mind, I would never respond in that fashion.
“That’s wonderful. I knew I could count on you.”
I knew I was in some serious trouble. I did not quite know what kind of trouble I was in but I was going to find out in very short order.
“I don’t have time to go to the shopping mall and pick up a certain item. I was wondering if you might do it for me? It would help me out so much and I would be so grateful.”
I do not know any politician that has anything on my wife. She can smooth talk better than anybody I know. The only problem is, all the smooth talk was directed in my direction. How in the world, and I say this from a husband’s perspective, can I turned down this kind of request?
“You want me to go to the mall?” I said as carefully as I could, “you do know I don’t like the mall?”
“I know. If I don’t get that item at the mall today, I’m going to be in serious trouble. You wouldn’t want me to be in serious trouble, would you?”
In order for me to keep her out of serious trouble, I must put myself in serious trouble.
“Okay,” I said as dryly as possible. “I guess I can go to the mall and pick up that item for you. Just give me the details and I will be off.” I was off, alright. Off my rocker and did not know when I would be able to get back on that rocker.
Then a thought came to me.
“This will necessitate four apple fritters to give me the energy to do this little favor of yours.”
She looked at me with one of those looks that penetrated deep into my soul.
“Okay,” I said with a nervous quiver, “how about three apple fritters?”
The stare intensified.
I cleared my throat, picked up the keys to my vehicle and headed for the mall. A lot of things I do not like to do and this has to be at the top of that list. However, being the terrific husband that I am (I have no documentation proving this, just trust me) I put my life in harm’s way.
I got to the mall and found the store where I was to pick up the aforementioned items. I paid for them, which I did not know was part of the bargain, but a guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do. Then I set my face like a flint toward the exit door.
Then I saw it. I had forgotten about this facet of the shopping mall at this time of the year. But there he was, Mr. Santa Claus in all of his ho, ho, ho-ness. It dawned on me at the time that he was the one responsible for knowing who is naughty or nice. This was my opportunity.
The line to sit on Santa’s lap was finished and he was sitting there by himself. I took the opportunity to go up and greet him.
“Do you know me?” I asked him with the broadest smile I could slap on my face.
“No,” he said thoughtfully, “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
“Well, do you know my wife?”
“No,” he said, stroking his beard.
I flipped him a “thanks,” as I turned around and headed toward a little bakery I knew had some apple fritters. Due to the sensitivity of the situation, the place will remain anonymous.
Eating my apple fritters I thought about what Solomon said, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do itwith thy might; for there isno work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goes”(Ecclesiastes 9:10).
It is not naughty unless someone connected with my wife sees me. Because I firmly believe, one person’s naughty is another person’s apple fritter. No names revealed.