There is something wrong with the lite string on the fence, she knows it, I can sense it. She stands on the front porch, cup of coffee in her hand and she stares at the lite string that is drooping at the front gate. She wants to say something to me about it. But she knows that it was cold, bitter cold when I worked on that section of the fence, and I froze parts of my body that will never see daylight again.
It is as if it is literally hanging in the cold winter air … She see’s it, the light string that is out of line with the rest of the fence, it bothers her, she knows that it is NOT right, but she is afraid (for good reason I might add) to say something about it.
Because she knows …
That I can be a sweet man or an awfully mean baby.
In her heart and mind, she knows that it should be corrected.
But she is fearful of the beast,
the Man-Child in every husband that ever lived.
She is a smart woman,
she knows better than to wake her second sleeping baby,
just to see it smile.
She has been here before.
It is best to not say anything about the string that is saggin’ and is out of line with the rest.
She knows … Some things in life, are best not said.
I suppose somewhere, deep inside all of us, there is a frustrated decorator just waiting to be unleashed. Most likely I will fix it (eventually) … What else do I have to this time of the year.