Cutting off the Lifeline

He was banging around the bedroom this morning, opening and slamming drawers, flinging open his squeaky closet doors. I opened one eye to catch a glimpse of him spinning in his own frustration. I wasn't quite awake, but somehow the events of last night came flooding back to me, and I knew, in my lethargic early morning haze, exactly what was bothering him. I opened the other eye and sat up. "They're not here," I said sheepishly.

He stopped and turned to me, saying nothing, waiting for the explanation.

"Your workout clothes," I said. "They're downstairs in the dryer."

He nodded his head to signal that he understood, and headed for the door.

"Wait," I suddenly sounded a bit panicked. "Scratch that..."

He again looked to me for vital information, eyebrows lifted, eyes probing.

"They're not in the dryer. They're still in the washer."

"I see," he said in that way that indicates a storm cloud ahead. He walked back to his bureau and extracted a muscle shirt that he does not like to wear, but reserves for just such a laundry emergency. I watched him dress, clutching the sheet to my chest as I kept my head perfectly still and followed his sharp, disturbed movements throughout the room.

He finally kissed me goodbye, and took off for the gym. Upon hearing the door slam, I jumped out of bed, threw on a long nightshirt, grabbed a fabric softener sheet and five quarters, and padded down the stairs in my bare feet to the building's laundry room. I chided myself as I furiously tossed the laundry from the washer to a dryer, suddenly coming to the conclusion that I was wasting my time and energy. He's already on his way to the gym, and I already blew it.

Not having his laundry ready for him when he needed it was not really such a big deal. What was burning his ass (and ultimately mine) was the reason I didn't get the task done. We both knew. And I was going to eventually have to face the consequences. I started the dryer, lumbered back up the stairs and got back in bed. It was going to be a long day.

About an hour later I rose and began making the bed when I heard BabyMan's key in the door. I always jump a little when I hear that key and I know that I'm going to have to find a way to explain myself. I had no excuse, just an unacceptable explanation. But at that moment, an idea popped into my head.

"Hi, Baby!" I said cheerfully. This was going to be a stretch.

"Hello," he smiled.

"How much time have you got before you have to shower?" I sidled up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist and smacked him on his bearded jaw.

"A little, Why?"

"Well..." I motioned my head toward the half made bed and wiggled my eyebrows in that seductive manner that he's so familiar with. "I thought we might... you know..."

He grabbed me by the shoulders and gently pushed me off of him, still smiling. "Why? You trying to bribe me?"

"Bribe? What are you talking about?" I said in my most innocent tone. I think I managed to register a genuine hurt look in my eyes.

"You know what I'm talking about," he said as he lifted that undesirable muscle shirt over his head and tossed it on the ground. He walked over to his closet where, for the last month, he had been hanging a yet to be used implement on the door knob. It was a thick, nylon dog leash that he had found on the beach and had been playfully (and not so playfully) threatening me with for weeks. I had been so sure he'd never use it. He knew how terrified I was of that thing, and the application of it would be so much more sever than any infraction I could possibly dream of. He called his new toy "Epiphany," and had promised to use it in the event that I climbed back on the nicotine train. Epiphany's presence on that doorknob had kept me in check for weeks, but now I nervously watched him reach for it and yank it tight between his fists causing a loud snapping sound. I winced. He wouldn't! He just wouldn't! I sat down on the bed, praying that that wouldn't be the last time I sat down anywhere.

"I told you I needed my gym clothes this morning, and you dropped the ball. Can you tell me why?"

I swallowed hard as I followed Epiphany's movement from one hand to the other. "I... I got... I got a little busy." I choked out.

"Busy doing what?"

"I was... chatting."

"Yes, you were. This chatting thing is getting out of hand. Don't you agree?"

"No, not real..." I jumped as he gave Epiphany another loud snap. "Yes, completely out of hand!"
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God! My eyes traveled up to BabyMan's face, and I caught a good humored twinkle in his eye. He smiled again and turned back to the closet door and placed Epiphany back in her rightful spot. Suddenly I could breath. I watched him walk over to my dresser and pick up the other implement of doom, the bath brush. "You've been neglecting me, and your responsibilities around here. You've been spending way too much time on your laptop, chatting til all hours of the night, and not enough time on me and our home, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," my voice cracked.

"I think I need to give you a little reminder of your priorities and what's really important."

"No, that won't be necessary.  I'll remember." Our eyes met and locked in a staring contest. I lost as I dropped my eyes to the floor. I heard him place the bath brush back on the dresser.

"Go pack up your laptop. I'm taking it with me today."

my head snapped back up. "You're what?"

"I think you need to be without it for a while. And I've got a list of things you need to take care of, so let's get going... Now."

"You can' take my computer away!" I whined like a spoiled teenager.

BabyMan laughed. "Would you look at yourself? You're absolutely panicked. You will survive without it. It won't kill you, and..."

At that moment his phone made the sound of an email alert. He perked his head up in mid sentence and trotted over to his bureau where he picked it up and squinted into its screen.

"A comment to your last post?" I queried.

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Look at you!" I jabbed a finger in his direction. "You're freakin' Pavlov's dog! You're just as sick as I am!"

With that, BabyMan threw his head back and laughed so hard that he was in danger of losing his balance. I giggled with him as we shared the ridiculousness of out plight. Two victims of the new millennium, caught in the throws of the computer age... loving it, hating it, addicted to it like a futuristic drug from the mind of Alvin Toffler. Our amusement and cackling lasted several minutes before it eventually died down and BabyMan sat down next to me in exhaustion. He put his arms around me and kissed me hard on the lips. "I love you, Sugar," he said. "and I think taking your computer with me is the right thing to do. You need to gain a new perspective on this."

Suddenly I wasn't laughing anymore. I could feel the lines in my face turn to a full fledged pout.

"And when I come home tonight, I'm going to take you to a movie... but before we leave for the show, I'm going to give you a spanking."

To be continued...