A typical Wednesday night, just like hundreds before it. I’m sitting on the couch, the wife is on the other and we are mindlessly staring at nothing on T.V. The television is an unfortunate byproduct of my love for the NFL and all things Bears. Only during football season do we have cable, the rest of the year it is outlawed. Of late my wife has been more affectionate, but she has always had her moments of needing attention. Since pregnancy though it has amped up and the demands for love have gone up to 11. It’s pretty common for her to sit on my lap or demand that I show her the proper love when required. The following is an actual conversation, with no embellishments.
Lying on her back with arms outstretched she looked over and said, “Come love me.”
Without a word, but a little hesitation (perfect comfort had been achieved on my part), and an eye roll I got up. Standing before her I realized that she was not moving to make room for me, so I sat on the floor next to her. She started rubbing my bald head and playing with my ears and after a few minutes she whispered,
“Will you get me a cookie?”
Again, I hesitated, but eager to get off the floor I went to the kitchen and fetched her cookie. After bringing it back it dawned on me,
“If you wanted a cookie why didn’t you ask for one instead of making me sit on the floor?”
“You don’t like sitting by me?” she replied with a grin on her face.
“I’m sitting on the floor. The cat isn’t even sitting on the floor,” as I waved my hand to the back of the couch where her beloved Fatty slept.
The other one was perched on the window like a gargoyle. I don’t care for the cats.
Then, while still on her back she looked up at me smiling and she dismissed me,
“You can go sit down,” she laughed.
I retreated back to the safety of my own couch and sat there for a moment. Then the realization of what had just happened punched me in the face, hard. I had gone from the Alpha of the house all the way down to the Omega, in a matter of minutes. She was now fully in charge and I did nothing, I let it happen. I was reduced to a cookie fetching, floor sitting man-servant that is to be stroked like a cat lying in her lap. But I wasn’t even granted that! I was on the floor! While this scene played out the cats had lifted their heads just enough so they could look down their noses at me with their soul stealing eyes. They too knew what had happened and they were smug in their newly appointed status.
I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming or even recognize it was happening. But I didn’t, and now I have to deal with the after math and the newly installed Gynocracy that rules my world. She had drawn first blood and it was a cunning move, whether planned or spontaneous. She is diabolical and scheming, I wouldn’t have married her if she weren’t, but I’m not going out like that. In the coming months there will be many
battles as I claw and scratch my way back to relevance and try to regain some shred of manhood. The first one will be with the damn cats.
The mood is tense. I’m gunning for them and they know it.