LOVE HIM ‘TIL IT HURTS

The hermit has found a new hobby. No, he did not get rid of his old hobby of applying for random jobs online whether or not he qualifies – that one is still fully in tact. He has also not given up his hobby of surfing the interweb until he learns everything and can surf no further. This, my friends, is an exaggeration. If I send him a link to something, he yells, “SEEN IT!” If I start to talk about an article I just read on Business Insider he says, “Yeah, I know,” before I finish my breath. Duncan, thanks for sending Paul airplane info but, yeah, he’s seen all that, too. We can’t win. If we want to converse with Paul, apparently he needs to enlighten us, not the other way around. 

Today, Paul shuffled out of his office and into the living room where I was working. His walk was casual, feet dragging. He was wearing the same shorts and T-shirt that represent his “everyday wear” wardrobe – and by that I mean he will wear things three or four days in a row because, “I don’t do anything so they don’t get dirty.”

He had a bummed look on his face, mouth turned down just slightly. He threw up his arms and advised, “I have reached the end of the Internet,” and he sat down on the couch next to me.

Normally, at this point, we might enjoy a little bit of touch time, which has previously been explained. I may lean up against him while I do some work on the computer while he flips on the television and continues his surfing along the big green wave we call the TV guide. Today, however, after he conquered the wave and found Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, he became influenced by the episode and touch time took a turn for the worse.

It started with a light-hearted punch to my upper back, similar to what the reflexology ladies will do to one’s legs. Then a few more punches hit my back, moving more quickly than the first, which lingered a little. Then the fist became tighter and my voice started to spew, “Oww!” He laughed. “What do you mean, ‘Oww’?” and he kept punching me, harder.

“I mean OUCH! Your knuckles in that space next to my shoulder blade…..yeah, THAT one…it hurts me.” He stopped. Then he decided to smack me in the face a bunch of times before finding his favorite position – a flat hand against my forehead. He laughed again at the sounds he was making as his palm made contact with my skull. “I like that sound,” he said as he continued. I tried to fight him off. This is not even close to the 100^th time he has tried to kill me. “You like the sound of beating your wife while watching SVU?” “Hahahah. Yes.”

While attempting to hit my face, he knocked me in the left eye with the pocket of palm underneath the thumb. “O.K. we’re done! Play time is over when someone gets hurt!”

He stopped for a while. After a couple hours, he tried again and, again, he hit me in the left eye. “O.K. Quit it!”

“You’ve got two! What’s the problem? You have a built-in backup!” And then he laughed while exclaiming, “You’re so fun to play with.”

Yeah, I am. Just wait until tomorrow.