Fire Sale Blogfest

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My Fire Sale Husband

Yes, he's my husband. No, he's not for sale. And yes, you may have guessed it... he's not on fire, nor does he put out fires, or start fires, or play with fires, he doesn't even... oh wait... my mistake. He does put out fires. Well, sort of. In fact, I think I hear him yelling out, calling me right now. I must have left something on the stove. I do that on occasion. Trying to cook him a good meal, and write, like I'm doing now. So, hang on. I'll be right back.

Okay. I'm back. Turned out I hadn't left anything on the stove. Woo! Wiping sweat off my brow now. Checked all the pilots, and they were out cold, and inside the oven was ice cold too. That was him, just opening one of my bills. Oh Lord. I guess I better go on and admit it now.

As I'm thinking back, after he married me, he has been putting out quite a few fires on account of me. Sparing the details, as I'm most ashamed to admit this, why I nearly forgot about it, but yes he did...

...had to leave work, early, and this is a man who took work seriously, so to leave work early, to drive I don't know exactly how many miles because I locked myself out of the car, took a lot out of him. Stranded I was. And of course stranded in a place I... sssh... wasn't supposed to be. And guess what? Happened again. Only this time it was the car battery. Brand new vehicle. A luxury vehicle. And that dang battery went flat dead on me. But there he was, having to leave work, his co-workers teasing him, about me, of course again being where I wasn't supposed to be. Next time. And this time he's with me, thank God! But I want to drive, and we're driving in a snowstorm, on a highway, with hundreds of other motorists, when this panic attack hits me. So I stop, as he telling me to pull over to the shoulder of the road. But I can't. I'm too darn scared. My foot wouldn't move. It stayed stuck to the brake. Mashed to the floorboard. And my hands were stuck to the steering wheel too. And yes, again he did. He got out and rescued me.

So, it hasn't been just the bills I forgot to mention coming in. Or the extraneous excursions where my vehicle decided to tell on me. Or the meals I burn up leaving him to attend to the smoke and flames as I tell him I'm trying to go all Cajun. It's a long list of things... and here I nearly forgot how the main man in my life has always been there for me. But please do not take any of this the wrong way, and think that I misuse him. He probably could and would say as much about me, and the ways I've rescued him too. It's just that this isn't about me, but about him, and how much I truly do love and appreciate my other better rescuing half.

Comments

  1. This is wonderful! So jealous of your having somebody to put out your fires - and prolly start some, too in other areas.

    I've locked myself out of a car, and had my sister drive at great distance to rescue me, only to discover they keys were in my pocket the whole time. Oh, my. (Didn't tell her though.)

    Clapping & cheering for your fire sale hubs.

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  2. Is this a true story? Burning up the food while you write huh. At least you've got some back up on that end.

    I couldn't think of a story for this and I really wanted to since I sorta enjoy flash fiction now. You should join me on Friday in doing one. Any topic you want.

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  3. Beverly that is hilarious! In your pocket huh? O man that's too funny. But thanks. I really enjoyed this.

    Tosh, I think I'll stick with reading some of the flashing, flashing on Fridays. I barely pulled this one off. I'll be checking...

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  4. Ha! My hubby has to put out a few fires around here as well. Just this Saturday he had to come kill a big water-moccasin on our back porch. Yikes!

    But I have to ask...where were you those times that he came and you were somewhere you "weren't supposed to be"? I'm trying to imagine, in my life if there's anywhere that I'm "not supposed" to go... well, I mean like a crack-house or my secret-lover's house. See? You got me imagining the worst!

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  5. Haha... well now let's see... it couldn't have been the crack house, those trips normally last a week, right? I mean, I never go to a crack house with less than a few weeks vacation under my belt! And a secret lover, well that's no secret if I called my hubby. Come on...I don't see how any married woman on this earth could miss this one! LOL Well, at least not one who's spoiled by a Fire Sale Husband.

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  6. What I wanta know is...does your fire putter outer have a brother?

    My brother-in-law has been putting out those kinda fires for me for years. Poor man broke down and make himself several sets of keys that he left in several locations so that when I called, he'd go to the nearest location and pick up a set of keys. (That was in New York when I was a car owner.)

    Seriously though...this is just an awwww post.

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  7. LoL! No, he doesn't have a brother, though hint...hint...I hear Texas has a whole lot of 'em:-). (Oh Lord, I think I hear a stampede taking off now!;-)

    And I'm glad it's not just me with the car issues. Your brother-in-law sounds like another really good man.

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