Enter the (House) Dragon
I have a House Dragon. I have decided that my wife is not only my wife, but also the common species of dragon known as the House Dragon. I can’t take credit for naming or discovering the House Dragon. That honor goes to my neighbor Dave. He had a Sunday Bitch, but I had a dragon.
The Sunday Bitch is a cranky variety of wife. Except she’s only cranky on Sunday knowing she is facing another week of work at a difficult job. It makes them angry. Typical symptoms are yelling and cross faces. The big difference between the dragon and the bitch is timing. The bitch is only angry on Sunday, my dragon is angry all the time.
There were other indicators that I had a dragon. I started finding scales in the carpeting. At night, when my wife came to bed I would feel a strong breeze. I thought it was the fan. Then I realized she was flapping large leathery wings circling the bed searching for a place to perch. Then she clears a landing place by firing verbal fireballs at me: “Did you take out the trash?” “Why can’t I watch TV in bed?” “Quit stealing all the covers!” The biggest tip-off was when I saw the spent carapace at the foot of the bed. She had molted!
To be fair not everything is terrible. I turn the dragon loose on all the solicitors. It yells at them without remorse. I also don’t have to defend my seat at the movie theatre. I like the fact that coffee in my house is always hot. I like having a hot meal every night. And frankly there’s nothing better than a warm fire on a cold winter day. And I get to have that fire everywhere she goes.
So I have to weigh the benefits of a warm bed, with the shredded calves I receive when she kicks in her sleep and her razor sharp talons rend my flesh. All in all, it’s a pretty good trade.
The Sunday Bitch is a cranky variety of wife. Except she’s only cranky on Sunday knowing she is facing another week of work at a difficult job. It makes them angry. Typical symptoms are yelling and cross faces. The big difference between the dragon and the bitch is timing. The bitch is only angry on Sunday, my dragon is angry all the time.
There were other indicators that I had a dragon. I started finding scales in the carpeting. At night, when my wife came to bed I would feel a strong breeze. I thought it was the fan. Then I realized she was flapping large leathery wings circling the bed searching for a place to perch. Then she clears a landing place by firing verbal fireballs at me: “Did you take out the trash?” “Why can’t I watch TV in bed?” “Quit stealing all the covers!” The biggest tip-off was when I saw the spent carapace at the foot of the bed. She had molted!
To be fair not everything is terrible. I turn the dragon loose on all the solicitors. It yells at them without remorse. I also don’t have to defend my seat at the movie theatre. I like the fact that coffee in my house is always hot. I like having a hot meal every night. And frankly there’s nothing better than a warm fire on a cold winter day. And I get to have that fire everywhere she goes.
So I have to weigh the benefits of a warm bed, with the shredded calves I receive when she kicks in her sleep and her razor sharp talons rend my flesh. All in all, it’s a pretty good trade.
2 Comments:
Guess who, it's the Sunday Bitch. Just saw your recent blog including this one and guess what day it is Sunday, 11/12. The boys better watch out it's Sunday, raining and I have a soccer game to watch this afternoon which my wimpy husband isn't planning to attend. Anyway glad the trip is going well. By the way I love Dragons.....
obviously, we're all dragon fans here.
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