Whenever She Comes Home

My wife doesn’t like surprises, neither do I. Whenever she comes home, she does love the celebration…..to a point. She loves the rose pedals, the confetti, the music, “Hail to the Chief” playing, and the champagne poured into her eyes. Gratefully, she welcomes me with egg rolls from our local Asian cuisine haunt, Jack in the Box.

She also loves the new tattoos we all have representing our love for her. I have an “I love my gal” on my constitution. Our dog, Laney, has a “Feed ME” on her forehead, and the cats have tattoo’d paws reading, “Meow” on one paw, and “Claws R Us” on the other. They are bad ass kittens.

This is where my wife draws the line. Our 120 pound dog knocks her down before she can enter the door. After the 5th trip to the emergency room, I keep our dog locked up in a room with a tomahawk shaped bone. That’s her medication. After 5 hours, I release her and she strolls out of the room, a little uneasily, and gives my wife a delicate hug followed by wet kisses.

My wife does appreciate the affection, but further appreciates the lack of emergency room visits. I finally figured it out.

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