Babs, left: “Darling, you know we can’t get too frisky. It wouldn’t do, what with the children right in the next room.”
Hank, right: “Damn those little urchins.”
Babs: “Such language!”
Hank: “Sorry, dear. It’s just that a man has needs that must be met or things get broken and people stop speaking to one another.”
Babs: “Trust me, women have their needs as well. And they often continue to have those needs even after the men have met theirs.”
Hank: “Oh, so this is a performance review now?”
Babs: “Of course not, it’s merely a general observation. Why must you take everything as a personal attack? Have you looked into medication options?”
Hank, sighing: “You’re right. I’m just tense. I’m not used to having them constantly underfoot during this quarantine. No one needs a never-ending reminder of what they’ve done in the past.”
Babs: “Well, it isn’t their fault that they can’t leave the house. It’s not as if one of them created the virus out of spite because she didn’t get a pony for her birthday.”
Hank: “I wouldn’t put it past the middle one. She’s always had that mean streak. What’s her name again?”
Babs: “You know perfectly well what her name is. And you know what her name isn’t. You wanted her to be Henry Junior but she shot out of me without a penis. And if she has a mean streak, it’s because you keep expecting Henrietta to grow one and that’s just not going to happen, Daddy Dearest.”
Hank: “I don’t treat her any differently than the other girls that keep flying out of your delivery chute. Although it would be nice if there was another option on the menu.”
Babs: “Oh? We’re going there? Do you not realize that it’s your angry little soldiers that decide the outcome of the incursion? If you have an issue, you need to bring it up with them.”
Hank: “What are you saying? Are you trying to imply that it’s my fault this house is dripping with estrogen and mood swings?”
Babs: “I’m not implying, I’m saying. That’s how the miracle of life works. Do you ever read a book?”
Hank: “Do you ever not criticize me?”
Babs: “Sure. When I’m sleeping.”
Hank: “Fine. I’m leaving. I’m packing a bag, and I’m leaving, and I’m going somewhere that is not here.”
Babs: “And where are you going to go? We’re under quarantine. You take one step out the front door and Henrietta’s Penis-Revenge Virus is going to bite you on the ass. Although I have no idea how the teeth of that virus can break the skin of your tight ass.”
[Brief cinematic interlude, wherein poignant violins play on the soundtrack as the lovers glare into each other’s eyes, then the eyes soften as they reflect on what they mean to each other and how we sometimes go too far, and say things we shouldn’t because other things are the real reason behind the saying. And even if there is honest hurt, somewhere, it’s not the end all, it’s just a sharp curve in the road, one of many, and it must be navigated together. But one of them has to give first.]
Hank does: “If I remember correctly, it was my tight ass that got your attention in the first place. And it was your everything that got mine.”
Babs: “I do seem to recall that I was very happy you dropped your napkin at that dinner party. Of course, it was completely coincidental that I purposely dropped mine a few minutes later, just for research purposes. You rescued the linen with admirable muscularity.”
Hank: “And here we are, years later.”
Babs: “Yes, years. Trapped in this damn house with all those damn urchins.”
Hank: “Such language. We must repent for our sins.”
Babs: “I’m not sure that we’ve sinned enough to require redemption.”
Hank: “Well, you’re the one who took a bite out of that apple you’ve been clutching as a security prop throughout this whole dialogue. According to the Bible, you now know everything there is to know about sin. And the ways in which to commit them.”
Babs: “The Bible? That book written entirely by men?”
Hank: “Well, there was that one Ruth woman who scribbled out something.”
Babs: “I fully suspect Ruth was a drag queen.”
Hank: “Back then?”
Babs: “There is nothing new in the world. Only new ways to judge people for what they are.”
Hank: “I say we need less judging, and more linen-rescuing. Should we work on that theorem together?”
Babs: “Well, just as I have continually clutched this apple, you have continually remained nestled in my cradle of civilization throughout this entire dialogue, so it would only take a wee bit of fumbling to accomplish our mission.”
Hank: “And our wretched children? Still concerned about impromptu intrusions?”
[Just then, there is a crashing noise of moderate-concern in the adjoining room, followed by snippets of conversation including the phrases “you know you’re not supposed to touch that” and “we have to hide the evidence before Daddy finds out” and “I won’t say a word if you won’t say a word about what really happened to Granny Greta’s urn” and “pinky swear!”]
Babs: “My mommy radar says it will take at least thirty minutes for them to develop a plan. They won’t come near this room until then.”
Hank: “Perfect. It won’t take me nearly that long.”
Babs: “Oh, don’t be so sure. Remember what I said earlier about both of us needing to get to the finish line?”
Hank: “Got it. Should I turn out the lights?”
Babs: “Are you kidding? I need to see that tight ass that got me in this whole mess in the first place.”
[The soundtrack changes from pensive violins to a soulful saxophone played on a steamy New Orleans street corner as the humid linen is ironed once again.]
End scene.
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
All that knowledge and no birth control?? They must live in a Red State🙄😂
The Camel knows- it’s never about that final straw and two humps are better than one😉
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They live in a black and white state… 😉
And despite their wisdom, I don’t trust camels…
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And so the rediscovering of another one of life’s sweet mysteries lurches towards its convulsive conclusion.Also the biblical references, there’s a Ruth,a Mathew, a Mark, a Luke, a John, then somewhere in the editing they lost the RuPaul. (-once again WP has like issues, sorry)
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Sadly, the whole show was over in three furtive minutes and they still had the rest of the day to fill…
Poor RuPaul. But I’m sure she’ll be back on her sequined feet once again…
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We’ve obviously caught them on dress-up Saturday… Underpants and a scruffy dressing gown any other day of the lockdown, surely?
Don’t tell me that’s only me?
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Oh, trust, I have not won any haute couture awards during our little vacation…
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So funny but yet so realistic Brian.
Much more interesting than my journal chronology which I have neglected in the last few days, maybe because the days seem to be mounting up.
Enjoy your week end 🙂
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Thanks, Margaret. The days are, indeed, mounting, and yet they seem endless at the same time. Still and all, I’ve been getting an alarming amount of writing done, so there’s that…
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Yes Brian,
In a strange kind of way
I have found the head space
provides a safe haven for personal growth such as meditation, journalling, blogging Park walks & photography, listening to the birds, reading, connecting with friends, decluttering, cooking, enjoying my daily shower (may have missed something out).
I have never found time for meditation before but I love this app with 10 minute meditation, 10 minute breathing session & 30 minute bedtime relaxation. I am still working on fitting 30 minute one in.
I have not started my excercise video routine yet but hope to do so 🙏 .
The paperwork for the bones of my memoir are amongst my ‘to review’ papers.
Brian I have exhausted myself writing all this & hope not exhausted you in the process 😣
Just reflecting on this makes me feel grateful & wonder at how much of all this I did achieve against the background noise of everyday life & how much I used to beat myself up about any achievement deficiencies.
The sunny spring weather makes it all easier to bear.
Enjoy your day. 🙂❤️😎
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Oh, you haven’t exhausted me, by any means. I love it when folks open up and share their thoughts and feelings. It’s very healthy, and it brings us all closer together even if we are far apart. Too many of us, even before the pandemic, have walled ourselves into a form of seclusion. That’s never good. And it’s never good to keep your words inside…
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No Brian it is never good practice.
Hope you are well.
I am ok but not beating myself up too much this week. When I was working we used to talk about trying to be all things to all men & I realise I need to put the brakes on trying to be all things to myself. SMALL steps 👣
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Wow. Dripping with estrogen and mood swings. Are those kind of like rain in playgrounds when kids get pushed over the bars by angry lip clenched mothers. Oh that’s when the playgrounds actually open back up! Carriers and breeders! Eh!
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Wait, exactly which playgrounds have you been going to? They sound a little risky… 😉
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The Penis Revenge Virus? It all makes perfect sense now….
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Changes everything, doesn’t it? That toilet paper isn’t so important anymore…
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“Yo! You okay in there?”
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LOL! Yep, that about sums it up…
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Frankly, I think ‘we’ve sinned enough to require redemption.’
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I know I have…
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This is brilliant!
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Thank you muchly!
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These actors seem familiar, can you name them? Liked your dialogue as usual Brian, including the phrase “nestled in my cradle of civilization” and delivery chute”. I have noticed that few of your scenes include household tips or slow cooker recipes – I wonder what Freud would say?
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I’m fairly certain Freud would be horrified at the prospect of working through all my neurotic layers. But at least he wouldn’t be bored… 😉
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As you know Brian, just pulling your chain, very entertaining and that’s why your readers love you.
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It’s all good. I rarely let the chains be, myself…
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Hank knows as much about biology as his great-great-great times 100 grandfather Henry the VIII. I think we need to get Henrietta’s Penis-Revenge Virus trending and get Trump to start calling it that. And if the Bible had been written by drag queens, I might have actually read it!
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It’s amazing to me how many men STILL don’t grasp the fundamentals. Then again, we still have Fox News, so…
And I totally agree about the Bible. That thing needs a makeover, so to speak… 😉
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It never ceases to amaze me how many men failed the biology 101, and how many women are blamed for their lack of sons. But at least we’re no longer beheaded for it. There’s that.
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True enough, the beheadings have lost favor in most circles. But a certain political party is still very intent on the blaming, just in the form of restrictive legislation and reduced wages to keep the wascally women in line…
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