The "Crutch" Part 2

I scratched my head.

 

I leaned in.

 

Distraught, I leaned back.  I can't do it.  I just can't do it.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a crutch, I thought was secure against the table, start to slide.  And like dominoes, it forced the other crutch to the floor with a loud crash.  It only irritated me more.   I wasn't the only one.

 

"What the hell was that?" said my better half as she hurried into the room.  I would have said "ran" but know this about Raap.  She doesn't run.

"Very funny...would you quit calling me that?"

 

At least it's not Shirley.

 

"Also not funny.  I was really worried something happened to you.  Then I come in and find this. "

 

"Find what?" I said as I slyly slid the pages under Yzzi's homework.

 

"Don't try to slyly slide those pages under your daughter's homework."

 

Oops.

 

"Listen, I have just about had it with all of this."

 

"All of what?"  Feigning ignorance is not my strong suit.

 

"All of it.  The brackets.  The manual pool.  The name changes.  Your angst in trying to beat me every year.  These stupid blog entries"

 

Whoa--you can go after my talentless picking but stay away from the blog.

 

"Why are you so hyped up?"

 

"You don't get it yet, do you?"

 

I'll admit I can be slow but I knew where she was headed.

 

"Those crutches are not enough of a reminder?  That torn calf was a sign.  You're not getting any younger."

 

Off my game, I said the only thing I could think of at the time.

 

"So?  Neither are you."  Oops, I did it again.

 

Her eyes narrowed and began the slow, painful process of boring a hole into my soul as she quietly simmered.  She started to speak very deliberately.

 

"This has to change.  I don't like you during this time of the year.  It isn't fun.  I want my March back!"  And with that, she stormed out of the room.

 

Her March?  HER MARCH?  This is the greatest month of the year.  Shamrock shakes.  My birthday.  March Madness.  I mean, it has "March" in the name.  You can't make that go away.

 

And with that, I had a revelation.  A deleted Oregon became a confident Oklahoma in the final four.  Somehow, I had reached the moment of clarity I needed.

 

Tap, tap, tap.  My arch enemy had entered the room.  He shook his furry head and chuckled.  After the third attempt (I'm not the only aging member of the family), he jumped up on the couch, turned around 3 times and laid down.

 

I'm outnumbered.

 

TO BE CONTINUED