Yesterday was a good day. It was a long day of packing and moving stuff around. I lined up a few things that had been worrying me and I was happy to find out that the upholstery guy didn’t burn my seats at his mantanza. I was shocked that he only acted miffed but he sent me a good night text that read, “I’m still working, my friend. One more time, don’t worry.” Aubrey’s favorite show of all time was on and it is Shark Week. Just my luck.
The show was United Shark America, seriously. It advertised a countdown to the state with the most shark attacks in America. I bet you already know how this is going to end. It was a cool show and they featured different sharks, with different killing abilities that hunt humans. Don’t get me wrong, I kind of route for the sharks in North Carolina when I see them interview a group of girls who say the warnings are stupid, YOLO, It’s my summer, etc. Drunk American beach goers are probably stupidly delicious. Interesting show, but I had a weird feeling about it.
They interview people who’ve been mauled, mostly surfers or beach walkers. Some don’t have legs, but most of them made it out with cool scars. Apparently, sharks don’t kill 99% of bite victims. That’s a cool statistic. 11.5 million sharks in the coastal waters and too many delicious tourists to count. They do have statistics for the #1 most dangerous shark state of Florida.. 22 million tourists to the county that surrounds Orlando in a 3 month period alone, was the statistic.
My wife’s heart sinks and she sits up in bed. I’ve been making jokes about tasty kids during the whole show. She has this look of fear, dread and reality on her face. She’s not laughing. I know that she is a worrier and that’s the way she’s always been. I roll over, get my back scratched and go to sleep. Fast forward a few hours. I get up at 6 and she’s awake. Apparently she slept on the couch because she couldn’t sleep (probably watching more Shark Week). She recounts her dreams..
“We were setting off on our cruise and the boat kept sinking.. It wasn’t our boat but like a raft. You showed me where the bathroom was and it was off the side.” That was one dream. “I kept wondering if I was being to nice and you kept telling me that I promised to move aboard the boat,” that was part of what she said. “You moved is onto a boat that only had a 5 hp outboard motor and said we were making good time,” was another. She went on for a few minutes and I listened, as I always do, to her dreamland memories. I realized that Shark week screwed me.
Aubrey’s different deep-seated fears come from a fairly emotionally abusive, emotionally void father who took things to the extreme. I didn’t believe stories of this guy until I witnessed them for myself. For instance, Aubrey mentioned that the she was worried about our kids swimming in his pond. He replies, “Let me tell you what you do. I’d put a monkey mask on and hide under the dock. I’d swim under them and when they walk by- I would jump up, yell and chase them around. They’ll never go in the pond again. Problem solved.” That was an actual quote and it was shocking to all at the breakfast table but him. To him it seemed normal. I’m happy that her mom stuck it out with that Neanderthal long enough to have my wife. Now, he’s somebody else’s problem. On a side note, the same guy texts her last night with a picture of her old elementary school that is demolished. “Hi honey, they tore down your school. Goodnight.” You can’t make this shit up.
I had a feeling this was going to happen, as it started on the 7th and we leave on the 14th. I had a feeling that there would be a lot of worries created by that stupid show. She survived, and is in good spirits playing with her new cat and drinking coffee on the floor next to my desk. But later on tonight, in the murky waters of our bedroom lurks a menacing figure in the distance, which is our TV. I have to keep her away from it at all costs or she might be consumed..
On a positive note, my friend Joe is coming over at Noon to help me carry our furniture into the pod. Almost everything is packed and ready to go. The grass is cut and most of the junk is hauled. I found a neighborhood kid to make a dump run for the low price of $50. Man, I wish I was a kid these days, I’d be rich!