The wife and I left the kids with my parents today, and went out to see Batman2 together. I had her drive, because I have gotten so feeble I don't trust myself. As a matter of fact, I told her that this was probably the last time we'd be out together. She teared up a little, but she nodded in acceptance.
The wife really enjoyed the movie, and I liked it better the second time around. I honestly don't see how they can make a better sequel, let alone replace Heath Ledger. Then we went to my bar because the wife wanted some french fries and iced tea, and I wanted something with vodka and pineapple juice.
I cracked a sick joke that cracked her up. I do that a lot, and then she laughs, and feels guilty, and then I make her sputter with something even worse. What I said was something along the lines of 'wouldn't it be funny if I died and fell in someone's pool' and then I imitated a little kid looking out the window...'mommy, look, there's a giant lemon floating in the pool...'
I suppose you'd have to see me to get that.
I've been preparing the wife for...the future, or rather my lack of one, for some time now. For the most part, she has adapted well. Were the roles reversed, I'd be a mess. But I'm not her, I'm me. And I wouldn't know how to be anybody else, nor would I want to.
The other day, a stray pit-bull came into the yard from somewhere else, and began barking at and menacing the kids. The wife roared at it like a she-lion and went after it. It ran from the yard, this 50lb mouthful of teeth and bad attitude, running like a scared rabbit.
The kids are in good hands. I don't know what the future holds, but I am comforted by her good stewardship.
Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit...