Guess What

Guess what? There are aspects of life that I simultaneously like and loathe. On the right hand the thing is good, great, and it makes me soar in my quest for sanity in life. Yet on the left hand it drags me down to the pits of despair and insanity.

I hate it when BW asks, “Guess what?” I know at that moment that I have zero chance of knowing what should follow that question. Sometimes it may be fifty-fifty. I think she has determined at this stage of our lives that I am functionally illiterate about what is important in life. I see the condescension in her eyes and hear it in her voice as she speaks. She is one nanosecond away from the industrial strength eye roll of the millennium.

She will say, “Guess what day this is.” Women as a class of people, especially BW, remember nearly everything except where she put her purse, car keys, eye glasses or phone. I begin to scroll through my mental Rolodex and scan through my mental database and wonder if it is the anniversary of the first time we dated; First time we traveled through Illinois; What we ate on our first date; what was the color of her dress at the Junior/Senior Prom; the day of the week when the hurricane swept through Charleston, SC when I was stationed there; the day we embarked on the first and only cruise we took, (I had enough cruising when I was serving Uncle Sam in the Navy) who Susan kissed at noon in the music room. “Guess what? I don’t know.”

Then she will ask, “Guess what we forgot.” “Here is a news flash, girl, Breaking News, if we forgot it how do you expect me to think of it now?” I suggested some possibilities: “We forgot to pay the spring taxes; to turn off the stove last night after baking that pizza; to mow the yard all last summer; to change our underwear last week; to delete those ‘nekkid’ pictures of us on the Internet.”

“Guess who is coming over.” My guess; “The sheriff to serve a summons, CIA agent to look for aliens, Julian Assange looking for asylum, the Easter Bunny.”

“Guess what I forgot to do yesterday.” “Let me guess; to eat.”

“Guess whose birthday it is today.” “Herbert Hoover, Calvin Coolidge, Ozro Stuckey, Mickey Mouse, Attila the Hun.”

“Guess what I just found.” “Oh, I don’t know, perhaps seventy million dollars in that old trunk we have; an elephant living in the garage; a new 1947 Dodge Power Wagon Truck in the driveway; three Girl Scouts selling cookies on the front porch; my high school diploma; The Indianapolis Symphony is playing on our patio; a Weed Eater in your shorts.”

Guess what. I’m going to make a proposal to the TV Game Show Network to begin a new show called, you predicted it, Guess What. Only husbands and wives married at least 20 years will be chosen for contestants. Live-ins and wannabes do not qualify. The purpose of the program is to present another opportunity for women to humiliate and disparage men, their husbands, in a similar manner that 95% of all TV programs accomplish daily.

[Larry Vandeventer. Go to my two websites – Larryvandeventer.com and wjrambler1956.com – and purchase my books. I grew up North of Calvertville and graduated from Worthington High School and Indiana State. Contact me at Goosecrick@aol.com or 812-796-0784]