Magnetic Attraction

I have GOT to stop throwing things at my husband. Let me clarify that. I have never actually thrown anything AT my husband, just toward him. believe me, there is a difference. I have never AIMED at him. Take, for instance, the time I threw a shoe down the hall towards him. We had been married for five years, and he was really, REALLY getting on my nerves. I can't remember, now what it was all about, but I got fed up, and threw a shoe down the hall. The hall was about fifteen feet long, and I was standing at one end, and he was in the bedroom, at the other. I just wanted to let him know I meant business. I threw it at the floor, at his feet, but unexpectedly, because it was a new shoe, it bounced all the way up from the floor, and popped him smack in the side of the head! I don't know which one was more surprised, me, standing at the end of the hall, watching in slow motion, as the rubber tenny hit carpet, and began it's slow ascent upward, arcing toward and connecting with his temple, or him, watching it come toward him, as it bounced upward and smacked him one, upside the face! You would think I would learn my lesson, but apparently I am really thick headed. Sometime later, we had an argument that ended with me throwing a roll of quarters at him, from about twenty feet away. That time, the roll disintegrated, before it ever reached him, and again, we regarded each other with surprise, this time through a shower of quarters. That ended the argument immediately, by the way, because it was just too hard to argue, while we were laughing. For a long time, I behaved myself. Fast forward 11 years. We had now been married almost sixteen years. By this time, we don't even have arguments out loud anymore, most of the time. We can read each other's minds, and we have internal arguments. Such as, one of us will propose something, or say something, we already know what the answer will be, so we amend what we are going to say or do, and the discussion has already been had, without ever being said, thus the argument is resolved. Such as, when I asked him this morning what I should get at the store, he gave me a list for pot roast, and included celery on the list, and before I could even get the words out, (and you better believe I was thinking them) he said, I know, you don't have to get celery if you don't want to. This was one of the times he resolved his internal argument with me out loud. But I digress.
We were at the store, and I said something a little too loudly, that he didn't appreciate. He started putting everything that was in the cart back on the shelves. This made ME mad. I started putting everything he was putting back on the shelves back in the cart. We got to the vegetable aisle. By this time, I was throwing stuff in the cart with some force. Some guy in the aisle was laughing out loud at us. We were ridiculous. I grabbed a can of green beans. It slipped out of my hand. Backwards, as in, behind me. It FLEW across the aisle, and from at least eight feet away, hit him on the ankle. That time I was REALLY surprised. I really couldn't have aimed better if I HAD been trying. There were at least ten people on that aisle. Why it hit him, and not some other poor sap just trying to get his veggies, I'll never know.
Then there was this morning. You know, I just can't seem to win. I think Someone up There is trying to tell me something. I hear Him in the voice of my Mamaw, who told me over and over again, "Julieanne, you're going to have get a hold of that temper of yours." Bet you didn't know God had a southern lady's accent.
So I came in from church. In a good mood. I'm doing dishes. Here he comes. He says something, I say something back. He says something else, in a really loud voice. I get mad. I have a right to be mad. I want to make a point. I drop the two glasses in my hand into the dishwasher top. OK, maybe I might have dropped them down into the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary, but you should have seen my face when one of the glasses, bounced OUT of the dishwasher, and you guessed it, flew straight towards him from about ten feet away, and landed in a heap of glass at his feet. What the HECK! what the heck, what the heck, what the heck! I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't tell that glass to jump out of the dishwasher and fly his way. There must be some kind of internal antenna inside of him that says "Here! Here I am, hit ME!" Things just seem to fly to him, like a magnet. It can't after all be my fault if things have a mind of their own. Can it? Wait, don't answer that...I think I hear my Mamaw calling...



ps. i know there are a lot of extra commas in this post. i took the time to fix it, but forgot to preview it, and it didn't save, and i'll, be, danged, if, i, am, going, to, do, it, again.