Ken Vickers
Marriage Chronicles: Part One
Two weeks before Christmas I was sitting in my den wondering what to get my wife for a gift. She said she did not want anything, but I knew better than to believe her because although I was born in the morning, it wasn’t this morning. I pondered upon this dilemma as I walked to our bedroom. I lay down to read the Scriptures and just as I started to open the Book, I gazed askance at a magazine lying on the floor; Victoria’s Secret.
Secret my hind leg, I thought to myself, but I picked it up and began to flip through it. I did not pay any attention to the slim and handsome gals in the photos because I live with a slim and handsome gal, but only looked at the outfits. I imagined my beautiful wife in each one and finally, as I flipped, my gaze fell upon one outfit I just knew she would love and one I would love, either of which would look great on her. I called the number on the back of the magazine and the nice lady that answered took my order, which arrived only three days later and was placed under the tree. Before you know it, it was Christmas morning and when the gifts were opened; my wife was delighted with my purchases for her.
Christmas over, I fell into a more familiar pursuit of deer hunting. As I sat in my tree stand, I began to reminisce about my wife and our life together for almost 28 years. I still don’t know how I managed to marry so high above myself. She may leave me next week but it ain’t every day a country boy can snag a Miss Texas and keep her around for 28 years. I got to feeling right proud of myself and spent the rest of the afternoon just watching and waiting and reminiscing on my marriage. I remembered the time twenty-five years past that my wife and I were at the golf club for some function we were invited to and my wife was wearing a bikini out by the pool. I was hidden behind a divider and overheard a guy I didn’t know comment to his buddy on how in the world a dumb country hoecake like me was able to snag a woman that looked that good in a bikini. I stepped out of hiding and scared the crap out of the guy by walking up nose to nose, looking him in the eye, and without changing expressions rubbed it in by saying , “If you think my wife’s pretty in that thing, you ought to see her when she ain’t in it. But that’s my cross to bear, not yours; Now, why don’t you go pay attention to your own wife, Sir.” I was proud of my baby doll back then and still am, but that was 25 years ago and this is now. Age takes care of a lot of things. Let me explain.
Darkness fell and I climbed down from my deer stand without having seen anything. Arriving at home, I walked through what appeared to be an empty house though my wife’s car was in the drive. This should have set off an alarm in my brain that I was walking into a trap. Every light was off and the kids were gone as I opened the door to our bedroom to see candlelight, a bucket of champagne sitting on the side table, and Miss Texas wearing a smile and one of my gifts from Victoria’s Secret.
I let her know in no uncertain words that she “couldn’t pull this sort of thing on a man my age like pulling a gun. You’ll have me plumb scared to walk in my own bedroom for fear I’m walking into a bears den.”
I let her know she needed to give advance notice, three or four days at least. That gives a man a chance to plan to be gone to the fishing club with his buddies so he won’t have to face the music.
You just wait ‘til next year. I’m doing my Christmas Shopping at Sears.
Christmas over, I fell into a more familiar pursuit of deer hunting. As I sat in my tree stand, I began to reminisce about my wife and our life together for almost 28 years. I still don’t know how I managed to marry so high above myself. She may leave me next week but it ain’t every day a country boy can snag a Miss Texas and keep her around for 28 years. I got to feeling right proud of myself and spent the rest of the afternoon just watching and waiting and reminiscing on my marriage. I remembered the time twenty-five years past that my wife and I were at the golf club for some function we were invited to and my wife was wearing a bikini out by the pool. I was hidden behind a divider and overheard a guy I didn’t know comment to his buddy on how in the world a dumb country hoecake like me was able to snag a woman that looked that good in a bikini. I stepped out of hiding and scared the crap out of the guy by walking up nose to nose, looking him in the eye, and without changing expressions rubbed it in by saying , “If you think my wife’s pretty in that thing, you ought to see her when she ain’t in it. But that’s my cross to bear, not yours; Now, why don’t you go pay attention to your own wife, Sir.” I was proud of my baby doll back then and still am, but that was 25 years ago and this is now. Age takes care of a lot of things. Let me explain.
Darkness fell and I climbed down from my deer stand without having seen anything. Arriving at home, I walked through what appeared to be an empty house though my wife’s car was in the drive. This should have set off an alarm in my brain that I was walking into a trap. Every light was off and the kids were gone as I opened the door to our bedroom to see candlelight, a bucket of champagne sitting on the side table, and Miss Texas wearing a smile and one of my gifts from Victoria’s Secret.
I let her know in no uncertain words that she “couldn’t pull this sort of thing on a man my age like pulling a gun. You’ll have me plumb scared to walk in my own bedroom for fear I’m walking into a bears den.”
I let her know she needed to give advance notice, three or four days at least. That gives a man a chance to plan to be gone to the fishing club with his buddies so he won’t have to face the music.
You just wait ‘til next year. I’m doing my Christmas Shopping at Sears.
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