Hello dear friend. Thank you for your kind invitation to visit your pine bowered cabin by the beautiful Kootnay River. It will take some fallout for it to happen howsomever since the timing sucks.
You see, my mouth can deliver a rasher of trouble so it is not unthinkable that my favorite female-for-life could say something like “I’dnt’ve said that if I were you; some reflection time is indicated; why don’t you take a couple of days off to think about this [insert steely glare here]”. To this I would agree, and a gap in the time-space continuum would yawn briefly wherein I could ramble your direction like halitosis on an elevator.
I have a plan. Should marital relations hit such a hypothetical rough patch, I would respond by assuming a contrite posture and muttering some confused placating words to buy time (but not so magnanimous as to actually apologize since pettiness becomes me) as I glumly pack the essentials- spare underwear and a credit card on my motorcycle. I would also try not to pop a wheelie and click my heels simultaneously while roaring out of the driveway heading for some twisty mountain road in the general direction of your cabin. Alternatively, I could claim “Axe therapy” involving the fetchment of a truck load of firewood at your cabin, however, at 6 hours one-way, that is a long way to haul cellulose. I would release more CO2 in petrol than my fireplace would supplant in heat.
This schema only has a 20% chance of actually happening. It could bump to 30% if I consume too much coffee and get too glib about topics such as mother in laws, shoe purchases, or forgotten dates in the past.
You see, I have not yet mastered the art of the cow-eye; that vacuous dumb stare with a sideways chew of contemplation, sometimes accompanied by a bit o’ drool. It is said to be effective in cooling off tense moments in a marriage. Noooo . . . I feel compelled to deliver a snappy repartee with this retiree’s mouth completely disarticulated from the brain. Yes, I said “retiree” so clearly this has been going on for some time thereby demonstrating a complete inability to learn. Maybe I skipped cow-eye and went straight to cow-brain.
Meltdown escapes are rare and happen without warning so a terribly rude lead time for prospective hosts. Still, you are on my radar as a respite of connubial redaction. I presume your cabin contains suitable dressings, ointments and medications for my recovery be it a chainsaw accident or marital throwdown?
In another more likely instance, I would bring my love interest, the dog, chainsaw and truck to do a proper visit embellished by firewooding, fireside beverages, and the harmony we all seek with our favorite people.
The only cow present will be horizontal and sizzling.
