This weekend we met up with Allen’s good friend, Joe, and some friends to celebrate Joe’s birthday. Allen and Joe have been buddies since they were more or less in diapers and (as men do) seem to find trouble anytime they are together. Per normal “married folk” behavior; the guys had gathered in one area and the girls in another to visit and catch up. After a few minutes I hear something like this; “Yeah Allen, like that time we shot you TWICE” followed by an uproar of man-laughter. I catch Allen’s face at that moment and it goes from sheer joy at the thought of this memory to “Oh CRAP*” in about 2 seconds flat. You see, this little shooting incident happened only a couple of years ago and certainly after Allen and I were married but I had not heard a THING about it before.
When Al took me to lunch today I brought it up (Because I’m a woman, and we can’t help it. We have to nag and gripe and question every little thing. That’s just how it works.) It starts innocently enough – I’m jokingly asking him how this little story slipped by me for this long and he’s giving me this “I have no idea; I thought I told you” look coupled with a knowing smirk. A little later (Again, because I’m a woman and estrogen is a determined hormone) I sneak in something about being irresponsible and being dangerous with guns and “we have kids you can’t act that way.” Of course Allen then points out that this reaction is exactly why he’d omitted this information in the first place. After further consideration, I’m also curious as to how the ginormous bruising he suffered escaped my sights. This happened in the beginning of our marriage and probably around the time we were still, um – enjoying “being newlyweds.” A lot. Constantly. (sorry mom).
Fear not, ladies – for in the end I still conquered. I ended by pointing out that, contrary to his plan, omitting this story had not saved him a butt-chewing – it had merely delayed it. Plus, he had ignited the obligatory “what else has he done that I don’t know about” thought process that always follows in these cases. I have also concluded that stories like these remind me of how thankful I am for my daughters. Yeah – once a month there will be raging, unruly hormonal outbursts and emotional overflows and giggling silly nonsense aplenty; but (hopefully) there will not be reckless gun-shooting, testosterone-driven idiocy.
I love you, honey!
**I should clarify that Allen was “shot” with only the “wad” without pellets from a shotgun… these are his terms; not mine – but I just needed to ensure that it was understood that no bullets/pellets/other such metal actually entered his body.