Sunday, January 21, 2024

When Your Husband's a Writer

A snow shovel on an icy porch; iced over rhododendron in background.
Scene:  The living room. Mark is using a swifter.

Mark:  "There. I've finished sweeping and the floors feel less gritty."

John:  "Isn't that a metaphor for life." (Notices his shoes on the floor by the couch and goes to put them on the entry shoe rack.)

Mark (aghast):  "John!" (Steps in front of John and clasps him by the shoulders) "Look into my eyes."

John (trying to step around him): "But I need to pick up my ..."

Mark (holding him fast):  "Honey. Honey. Look at me: Sweeping and cleaning is an actual job we have to do to maintain the house. It's not a metaphor."

John:  "It's not a metaphor? Why can't it be both a metaphor and—"

Mark: "Oh my God, this explains so much."

No comments: