At the end of yesterday’s post, I was at a critical moment in the tractor saga. I had received the great news that I now owned a tractor, but suffered from pangs of guilt over the fact that I had done something that I knew would create marital discord.
I truly don’t know anything about tractors, and about marriage I know about an equal amount. But, as a hobby I like to do occasional woodworking and make some furniture. If I were to describe marriage as a table, and for it to be a good, solid one that stood nice and stable and lasted for years and years, the four legs holding it up would probably be: 1. love (of course), 2. a shared sense of fun, 3. understanding and 4. trust. You can probably quibble about some of these, but not leg number 4, and unfortunately I had just given that leg a good solid kick and left that table a wobblin’.
Well, at this point there was nothing I could do but face up to my indiscretion like a man, so I didn’t do that. Instead I took the letter, put it at Cindy’s spot at the dinner table, and let her find it on her own; I slunk off to places unknown. When she found it, I don’t think the full impact sank in immediately, but some of her words at the time were the genesis for the title of this blog. It took a few hours for the whole “sneaky transaction thing” to fully settle in on her. Once it did, it was not a situation of a lot of angry shouting, but worse; it was the beginning of several days of “the deep freeze” with few words spoken. Worse yet, anyone I shared the tractor story with wanted to know first and foremost, “What does Cindy think of this?” I felt pretty bad, and didn’t know how I was going to get out of this one. Just when I was thinking this couldn’t be worse, “The Great Laundry Incident” occurred turning a major rift into a crevasse of distrust. I always carry a ChapStick (Note to Wyeth, this is my first product placement; send money now for tractor rehab fund.) in my pocket, and on this unlucky day I had forgotten to remove it from the very shorts I had worn into the woods that morning. The little bugger had gone through the washer and dryer and even after Cindy did emergency spot removing and relaundered everything, several of her favorite pieces were ruined. Oh man….
I’d say two things helped eventually set things right. First, leg 3 of the table was good and strong and second, my friend Gene (after hearing of my dilemma) offered a home for the Pony that did not involve my house, my garage, or my driveway. So, lesson learned, I’m not doing anything sneaky again…until the next time.
You’re up to speed now. Gene and I walked back into the woods today, so I could show him the tractor. He agreed that it’s neat, heck all guys like tractors, don’t they? He also agreed that a good towing service ought to be able to get it out of the woods. I’m thinking my first call should be to AAA (maybe just AA) to tell them that 15 years ago I parked my tractor in the woods and now, unexpectedly it won’t start, so I need a tow. Think that one will fly?