Several months ago (okay, so it was Christmas 2015), Sauerkraut gave me this hoodie:
The only problem with the hoodie was that it was too small at the time and, being the mature adults that we are, we talked about exchanging it for a larger size. Then, reality set it. Returning it would mean driving back to the store in the big city where he bought it, over an hour’s drive away. It was winter. It was really cold. We didn’t want to lose a day driving to Ottawa. We had other things to do over the holidays. It was just a hoodie. Truth be told, we were just too friggin’ lazy to take it back.
So, into the closet it went because of someday. Someday it would fit. Someday I would lose the weight. Someday.
Fast forward to the other night. Someday had finally arrived. I had lost some weight after giving up sugary thingies since last September. I tucked the hoodie under my arm and
hid in tried it on in the bathroom. If it didn’t fit, then right back into the closet that motherclucking hoodie would go. Sauerkraut would be none the wiser. If it did fit, then, winning.
Imagine my surprise when my anaconda-sized arms slithered into the hoodie’s sleeves. Miracles do happen! By this time, Sauerkraut was propped up in bed, engrossed in some article he was reading on his iPhone. I decided I was going to surprise him by modelling my mighty fine hoodie with my equally mighty fine cupcake pyjama bottoms right before his very eyes. Sexy visual, I know. Try to contain yourselves. I strutted my stuff across the bedroom floor like a Victoria Secret model killing the runway.
In my mind, I looked like this:
In reality, I was more like this:
Sauerkraut: Well, look at you, rocking that hoodie.
Me: I know, right?
Sauerkraut: It looks good on you.
Me: Cute as a button is what I am. It’s still a little snug but at least I can wear it around the house now. I do have one question for you, though.
Me: If I’m Rocky, does that mean you’re Bullwinkle?
Sauerkraut: That. Is. Not. What. It. Means.
Me: Then, what does it mean?
Sauerkraut: It means that I am the hunter and you are the prey.
Me: I don’t think that’s what it means at all. I thinks it means exactly what I said. I’m Rocky and you’re Bullwinkle
Sauerkraut: Isn’t Bullwinkle a moose?
Me: Yes, and Rocky is a squirell. If I’m willing to be a flying squirrel, then you should be willing to be a moose. It’s called role playing, Sauerkraut. Wouldn’t you rather be known as a manly man bull moose than as a mean old hunter stalking a poor innocent squirrel, namely, me?
Sauerkraut: Isn’t Bullwinkle a bit of a dope?
Me: I’m not sure. I’ll search the Google……….. hmmmm, it says here that Bullwinkle is a dim-witted but good-natured moose.
Sauerkraut: I knew he was an idiot.
Me: But he’s a good-natured idiot. You are good-natured. See the connection?
Sauerkraut: Are you saying I’m dim-witted?
Me: Why must you always focus on the negative?
Sauerkraut: I’m not focusing on the negative. You’re saying I’m dim-witted by calling me Bullwinkle.
Me: You’re sooooo sensitive. I’m not saying that at all. You’re the one who started this.
Sauerkraut: Me? How the hell did I start this?
Me: You gave me the hoodie with the name Rocky embroidered on it, remember? If you didn’t want me to make the connection, then you shouldn’t have given me the hoodie.
Sauerkraut: For the love of God.
Me: I think you’re jealous.
Sauerkraut: Of what?
Me: That I’m a flying squirrel and you’re not.
Sauerkraut: I’m going to sleep now.
Me: Sure. Take the easy way out. You never want to face what’s really bothering you.
Sauerkraut: Do you even hear yourself?
Me: Why, yes, yes, I do. You’ve lost this one, Sauerkraut. I am Rocky, see me fly. You are Bullwinkle, good-natured for sure but really dim-witted at this particular moment.
And, that, my friends, is how someone in this Cabbage Patch wins arguments (me) and how someone sleeps his problems away (not me).
Today’s something new: having the courage to strut my stuff like a Victoria Secret model. Eat your heart out, Heidi Klum.