Honey, before you say anything, I know your thing about Saturdays “Not on Saturdays”, you yelled from the shower this morning. And I, as your wife, totally respect your totally capricious reasons for not wanting things to happen on Saturdays. And believe me, I didn’t want this to happen on Saturday either. Or any day, really. But, when I decided to marry you, after the time when you got me pregnant and I didn’t want that, well… I made a vow, to be totally open with you about what is happening in my life and right now what is happening in my life is that there is a giant snow leopard on our front stoop that really needs to use our bathroom.
No! Please, just listen. First, all I said was: “Let me ask, George.” What? What do you mean, “Now he knows my name.” I think he’s just some snow leopard off the street and he’s probably been holding it in for a while. I don’t think he would bother us on a Saturday if he didn’t really need it. Well, no. He didn’t say which one it was. Honey, do I really need to ask him? It will be really quick. I’ll just walk him in and you can just continue to use the message chair for another five hours uninterrupted while you watch your Dan Marino VHS rerun things.
No, we’re not a charity and all I’m asking is the respect of having the snow leopard use our bathroom and maybe I make him lunch. Whatever he’s hungry for, George! I don’t know! He’ll probably be hungry and I would really just appreciate a little sympathy from you, just once. You’ve been playing that card for years! Your father died twenty years ago! You have to stop using him to get out of things that make you uncomfortable. Such as? How about every family reunion! How about your children’s high school and college graduations! How about the birth of your youngest! How about your father’s funeral! All you seem to do anymore is sit there on your message chair with it on “Hey! Cheif-mode, No Hold Barred” setting and you just read your Nascar books.
You believe me! I will absolutely take the blame if something goes wrong! Absolutely! It will be my pleasure! I always take the blame anyway. I always do. Even, if it’s “OOOPS, I ACCIDENTLY COOKED AND MADE OUR DOG FOR DINNER AND I TOOK A BEEF ROAST FOR A WALK! OOOOOOOOPPPSS! MY BAD!” This is always what you’re doing, you sit there passive and wait for me to screw up and then when I TAKE THE DOG TO SOCCER PRACTICE AND TAKE OUR KID TO GET NEUTERED THEN, OOOOOOHHHHH, IT’S ALL MY FAULT, ISN’T IT GEORGE? Tell me… tell me… was it my fault when you sat there while I PINNED THE DOG UP ON A CLOTHES LINE AND LET HIM OUT TO DRY WHILE I BROUGHT THE LAUNDRY TO THE DOG PARK TO PLAY WITH OTHER LAUNDRIES!!! TELL ME!!!
I get it. I over did it… Fine. I’ll tell the giant snow leopard he can’t use our bathroom. And I’m gonna put a huge smile on my face and be happy when I tell him that because that’s what YOU want. That’s what YOU want. What! Oh, now YOU’RE telling the snow leopard he can’t use our bathroom. NOW YOU WANT THIS TO BE YOUR SATURDAY. FINE!!! GO AHEAD BECAUSE APPARENTLY I CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT!!!
(George answered the door and was immediately cat-murdered. It was all a ploy by Mrs. George to trick her husband into being eaten by a giant snow leopard. George may have readily acquiesced because he was confusing the snow leopard with a dog he knew. Police authorities have called it the most inevitable and probably the most deserved murder of all time.)