Hurry, put the sheetrock up! My wife will be home any minute
Editor’s note: The following is an excerpt from “Bob Miller’s Musings” written by Bob Miller. The morning host on WBPM 92.9 FM, Miller lets his mind and wit loose on a variety of subjects as he goes about life. Visit his blog atwww.poughkeepsiejournal.com/blog/bobmillersmusing
Well, it finally happened. I cheated on my wife. But before you get all “judgy” on me, let’s be honest, marriage is a marathon. There are the easy parts where you say, “Hey, this isn’t bad at all.” Then, there are the more difficult stretches where you feel nauseous, disoriented and suffer from shortness of breath. It is during those times that you have to question if you have the intestinal fortitude or the guts to carry on.
I cheated on my wife because I simply lost control. I reached down deep for my last little bit of willpower and fell short. We have always enjoyed spending time together, whether it’s chopping vegetables, picking apples or just asking the other to please hand over a new roll of toilet paper.
We enjoy watching our favorite programs together, too. But this is where the wheels finally fell off for me.
One of our weekend indulgences is sitting down with a bowl of popcorn and watching recorded episodes of “Rehab Addict.” We view it because it clearly shows how easy it is to solve a major household problem if you have 30 minutes and a reality show without getting into all the minutia of budget overages, disappearing contractors and appliance deliveries arriving two days late. As landlords, we look on in awe of just how naïve one would have to be in order to believe that it’s as easy as it’s portrayed on TV. Besides, Nicole Curtis can really swing a sledgehammer.
It was almost 5 p.m. and Michele wasn’t home yet. I was getting anxious. I bit my lower lip as a weird feeling overtook my body. Maybe she has a meeting that I didn’t know about or perhaps had to make a road trip. Of course, I could call on her cell and find out, but well, I felt like rolling the dice. What the heck, give me that remote. At that moment, willpower was no longer in play. It was full speed ahead. GIVE ME THE REHAB ADDICT … NOW! The guilt wouldn’t completely leave as I found myself gazing out the window every 30 seconds to see if she was pulling in, but by the same token, I felt like I was being naughty and totally getting away with something. Will Nicole be able to completely refinish that kitchen by the time Michele comes home? I was biting my nails and actually starting to sweat. Hurry, damnit, put the sheetrock up! My wife will be home any minute!
Wow! What a feeling. I almost feel like having a cigarette, for heaven’s sake. Now, what do I do? Do I come clean and tell her I watched the whole thing … and loved it? Or do I keep my mouth shut? Well, as my dear sweet mother used to always say, “silence is golden.” Good job, Mom. It’ll be fine. I’ll just watch it with her like nothing happened. I can be cool about it. No worries. Deep breath, Bob … deep breath. OK, maybe a cold shower would help a little bit. See ya later.
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