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My Domestic Monster . . .

Kenneth, born and raised in the South, resides in Hamilton, Alabama. He enjoys sharing his unique perspectives on life through his writing.

There Comes a Time

when people in a blurred instance of time grows from mumbling, awkward people who are definitely living as squares trying to fit into the round holes. B-R-U-T-A-L! I know, friends. I have rode with several "Doctors" hucking New and Improved Snake Oil from St. Louis! Today these doctors with $25-dollar licenses are selling used cars which proves my point of these companies being the last stop before the Snake Doctors finally let go and go head-long into the Abyss. Sad. But true.


Now Comes Full Circle

with what I am about to share with you now. But first a brief bio about yours truly. I'm 64, really! I have an obvious weight problem. I drink way too much black coffee and eat way too little of anything that claims to be Healthy. Question: why do the majority of Health Foods all look ugly in the box? Is this merely a case of bad packaging, or a bad food with a bad package? Never mind. That is for another time.

I am writing this on March 12, late here in northwest Alabama. The streets are quiet, all with the exception of a stray dog looking for a place to sleep. It's moving toward mid-week and things couldn't be more drowsy. Even the police force has turned in. What a town, huh? It's a "fruit for the picking" if you are of the Tim Allen and Henny Youngman areas of life. How long do you think that stand-up will continue to entertain? I'm talking to you, Allen. Okay. Don't answer. I respect your silence and lawyer's advice. I loved Home Improvement, by the way.

Every married couple faces "this" situation: a strange noise in the house heard by the wife who normally sleeps like a log. It happened to me not too long ago. We both had experienced busy days and were looking forward to bedtime. When you are in your 60s, you dream of going back to bed within the first moment your feet touch the floor in the morning.

I was enjoying some good REM sleep and I mean I was on rock bottom and not moving. I couldn't have moved even if a Rhino Tranquilizer had been shot into my right leg. I was tired, friends. But as my wife's inner-clock struck midnight, (Poe rolled over in his grave), and then she took to gently pinching the flab around my waist. Yes, friends, I do have a waist. This pinching did not work. So she began whispering my name and from her voice, I perceived it was as close as my face.

I awoke still feeling my sleep-aids, prescribed, I might add, and I was not feeling great around 2 am with my wife's face looking like those old black and white films where the female extra's all look terrified. And I have learned over the 43 years of our marriage that when she looks like this, I need to move. And quickly.

"Pam, what are you saying to me? What did you hear?" I whispered feeling very frustrated.

"There's some--one in the house, Kenny. Can you get up and see who's in there?" she explained in a very methodical way. I was impressed.

"Okay, but let me get my sports shorts on and I will be there," I was talking, but it seemed like I was only talking to the floor.

Then I heard it. The noise that my wife said that she had heard. I froze. We both said nothing. We just sat there in the dark waiting to see what or whom was invading our home. Not a Julie Andrews type of moment. We were both beginning to be concerned.

I heard the noise again. I kept the lights off. This was a tip from a former Hamilton, Ala., police officer. He advised if this (the noise) ever happened, to keep the lights off because with a dark house, you can even the playing field.

Slowly and surely, I walked . . .you know the bit. I walked ever so slowly down our hallway. My wife was now safely tucked in and sleeping. It was now 2:40 am. I was wide-awake. No noise. No demented spirit coming from our walls or no beast loose from Hades hiding in our couch. I looked. I did not see anything or anyone lurking or peering from anywhere in our home.

3:15 am -- I crawled back into bed and fell asleep. I never found anything. Then I began feeling so despondent about me, the man, supposed to be at guard at all times, but finding nothing. I lay there until daylight. My wife, bless her heart, slept like a log.

I know what I'll tell her, I thought. I will tell the truth. What else could I do? She will understand. She is wiser than I am so when she wakes up, I will share my "adventure."

When she awoke, she smiled. I smiled. She said: "what was that we heard this morning? Did you get it?" Now she was getting more and more methodical--truly not a place where I should say a lot. I didn't find anything or anyone. I will say that to her.

I said it right into her eyes and without one apology, I told her that I tried. But didn't succeed.

She smiled. And continued her day.

I sat in my recliner with a cup of coffee and looked into the eyes of our "monster" who was as confused as I was. We were sad for about a half hour. Then he left.

_________________________________March 13, 2018

© 2018 Kenneth Avery

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