Life's Little Interruptions

We were in the throes of the usual dinner is about to be served insanity. The children were whining as is required in the hour before we eat. They were right on task,  flopping their bodies from room to room saying "I'm huuuuungry!" and "Do I HAVE to wash my hands?" and the little one "I EAAAT!"

*riiiiing*

The Man answered the phone with his I'm not taking any shit from phone solicitors voice. "Hello?" and then "yeees this is." and then a giant grin broke out across his face. "Heeeeey, buddy! What's up!?" He quickly moved to the backdoor, sliding it open and disappearing into the back yard where he could carry on a normal conversation. I watched him sit on the bench swing while I set the table, wondering who the hell could have called to illicit such a strange reaction from The Man. He smiled and scratched his balls, looking up in time to catch me watching him, he waved.

BigD is always in charge of beverages and as she passed the kids their glasses of milk I described what had taken place, gesturing to The Man outside on the phone. "Who do you think it could be?" I asked her.

"What, you think it's an old girlfriend?" she asked, laughing.

"No! He doesn't like his old girlfriend. Besides, he said "buddy" he would have said "sweetie" if it were a female. Has to be a guy." BigD shrugged. "BigD! This is HUGE! Unprecedented Man behavior! I think it must be his old friend, from back in the day" Back in the days before Dew(ed). The Man came into the house casually, as though nothing unusual had occurred. Highly suspicious, yes? (*laughing*)

"Did anyone take the meatballs out of the oven?" he asked accusingly. BigD and I looked at one another and the plates of spaghetti being inhaled sans meatballs, shaking our heads. "Damn!" The smell of well on their way to over done meatballs greeted our noses when he opened the oven.  He served himself a giant pile of spaghetti and rolled the meaty balls onto a plate, joining us at the dinner table.

"Soooo…." I prompted, "Who was it?"

"Me too! Meatball, me!" Little Man reached for the plate.

"It was W and K." he said "Not yet, Little Man. It's hot."

"Pleeeeease!" Little Man begged.

"Wow! How did they find you?" I asked him "No, Little Man. It's ouchy hot! Just wait a minute and you can have one."

"Yellow pages."

"We're listed?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know how many The Man McPetermans there are?" I asked him "How many did they call before they got to you?"

"How your day daddy?" asked Little Man "How your day daddy?" he fired again.

"They talked to one other guy before they found me." The Man laughed. "It was good." he said to Little Man who barely listened to his answer before turning to the next person at the table.

"How your day sisser?"

"So what's up?"

"How your DAY, sisser?"

"Nothing. They were just sitting there talking about me and decided to find me."

"That's cool." I said, waiting expectantly for more.

"How your DAAAAy, SISSER!?"

"It's Saturday. They're probably partying." The Man explained.

"Heh." I said. "Lil Dew, please answer him."

"Fine." she told him "How was…" he was already to the next person.

"How your day BigD?"

 I peppered The Man with fifty or sixty more questions. Inane questions about the conversation meant to pry open his true thoughts and feelings, but no matter the phrasing he still answered like a man. Finally he snapped at me and I dropped it.

Then, Sunday came. He looked them up on myspace. I watched silently as he scrolled by their pages,  the pictures of parties and quad gatherings and girls upside down on bongs and buckets of beer on boats. I wandered off to smoke outside and after awhile he followed me, standing at the backdoor staring out at me in the rain. I hugged him awhile. "Are you sad?" I asked him.

"No." he kissed me on the head. "We just have a different life. A family life."

"You can be mad about it."

"I'm not." he insisted forcefully.

"Well, that's weird." I said.

"What is.? That I'm not sad or mad or whatever?"

"yeah, that would be weird. But I meant it's weird that you still think you can lie to me."

"It's weird that you still won't let me."

"yeah. I win the weird awards every time. It's weird we still have the contest." We stood there just inside the back door, staring at the messy kitchen. "So they have lotsa toys and fun all the time?" I shook my head sadly. "You know people post the best of the best on their myspace. I mean maybe they were just on a boat that one time and there's a pic of it, ya know? And maybe they were at some shitty beach and some people just happened to have parked quads behind them. Ya know?" He laughed.

"No." he said simply so I hugged him again.

"So you told 'em what you're up to?" I asked his chest.

"Yeah." he grabbed my ass with both hands.

"I mean, you have stuff! Did you mention the brand new washer and dryer?!?" I asked him, grinning up at his chin. He laughed.

"No. I didn't think to mention that."

"You could have bragged about them being," I humped his leg "FRONT LOADERS!" I teased him. "So shiny! Such fine examples of modern machinery!" he laughed some more, disentangling himself from me and wandering back toward the computer. We both know it won't come up again, unless I push it. We will continue our life, the interruption hardly noticed, unless I keep pointing at it.

(I'm a pointer.)