I Got My Own Security

I Got My Own Security 

"What a bunch o' dummies!" the Missus blurts out all of a sudden.

"What now?" I wanna know.

"Them bomb makers got absolutely no brains. Just look at that! They got all different colors o' wires for their bombs. It's easy as pie to disarm them."

We was watchin' an episode o' NCIS on the TV where they was disarmin' a bomb on a truck. They done it with about a minute to spare an saved the day for the good guys. Instead o' focussin' on the plot o' the story, the Missus is harpin' on the colored wires an' the stupidity o' the bomb makers.

Well so I figured out that if I was in a place like Syria or Afghanistan I wouldn't be afraid o' them suicide bombers as long as the Missus was with me, an' she had a pair o' side cutters an' could remember the colors o' the wires. An' that's just for starters.

The other day she goes to a gem store an' picks up a couple o' rocks that tickle her fancy. Among them is an amethyst that's gotta weigh five pounds easy. Of course, she's thinkin' about the beauty o' the stone with all its jagged edges an' how the light reflects off them. Me, I'm thinkin' somethin' altogether different. Ya couldn't really make a war club outta it but if ya held it in yer hand an' bashed it on the side o' somebody's head, it has enough weight to make a considerable impact. An' the sharp jagged corners in the stone can easy cause a lot o' brain leakage in that kinda situation with just one blow.

It would almost prompt a paraphrasing o' parts o' the twenty-third psalm in the bible to suit the situation. For example: "Yea though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I fear no evil for thou (the Missus) art with me and thy rod (side cutters) and thy staff (big amethyst rock) shall comfort me still.", or somethin' like that. Well that's what King David wrote anyways. For all I know he was talkin' about his Missus rather than about God. Lord knows he had enough o' them.

The lesson here is clearly that you wanna treat the Missus with a whole lot o' respect an' admiration. She could, if push comes to shove, save yer bacon. At least that's how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin'.