Saturday evenings I like to
settle back with a glass of wine or two, a little snack of nuts or popcorn, and
watch an old movie on Turner Classic Movies. It used to be a bit more enjoyable
before Mark stopped going out every Saturday night. As he has gotten older he
has slowed down a bit and stays home now. It kind of takes away from the peace
and quiet. Anyway, I'm sitting in my big fluffy chair watching an old film
noire movie called 'Kansas City
Confidential'. Mark is in the bedroom watching cooking shows on Netflix and
The Cooking Channel, so I'm pretty relaxed. That's when Scout decided to have a
conversation with me. She's quite a talker, so cute, and I like to indulge her by
talking back. The problem is that I tend to wave my hands around when I talk,
and I put my big, fat hand right through my wine glass. Knocked that damn thing
right across the end table. There was a crash along with the tinkle of little
glass shards falling to the floor. There was also a short burst of cursing
which I clamped down on as soon as I realized that Mark did not hear the glass
break. You see, it was one of Mark's very nice wine glasses. One of those with
the glass so thin that you're afraid to even wash the thing. So I quietly
cleaned up the broken glass and threw it in the garbage can, which I then took
out to the alley so that Mark would not see it. Hopefully he won't notice that
he's short one glass, and hopefully he won't read this post. I also feel
confident that none of my friends who read this will have the urge to snitch.
Right, I can count on everybody keeping quiet, can't I?
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