Destined to Lose

July 17, 2009 at 1:31 am (Random Writings) ()

Destined to Lose

 

            “Oh my God.”  My mind is about to roll in upon itself just trying to fathom the situation I’m in.  I haven’t done anything wrong, yet I know that I’m about to be punished for something that I did at some point, although I don’t remember what it is or why it matters.  So all I can muster as an answer to my wife is “Oh my God.”

            For some reason, she doesn’t quite grasp that I want to be left entirely alone at the moment.  She thundered into the room no more than three seconds ago and already I feel as if I’ve been interrogated by a number of judges, including God himself, about a crime that is currently slipping my memory of ever taking place.  The only information I was given was a single announcement upon her entrance:  “What are you doing?!”

To you this may not seem like so much of an announcement as a general question, but you’d be wrong, just like I’ve been wrong so many, many times before.  The reasoning behind this is that her wording was not a kind inquisitive remark about what I was presently doing, but a forceful demand that implied not too kindly that although I can answer her question, it will inevitably be wrong.  So we get back to the “question” at hand.

            “What are you doing?!” my wife asks me.

            “Oh my God,” I respond, knowing quite well a whole lot of nothing.

            “What do you mean by that?!” she answers back.  At this point I’ve already lost.  I’ve given her the edge that she needs in which she knows that victory is securely within her grasp, and all she has to do is reach out and take it.  She’s about to win a battle that I haven’t been told about.  I’m about to lose a war that my government neglected to tell me we had entered.  The very least I can do is take each bullet like a man.

            “What d’you mean ‘what do I mean’?”  Yes, surely I have taken the high road that is exclusive to only the truly noble of men.

            “Oh that is so like you.  I try and have a real discussion with you and you act like a child.”  And now I’m in a new situation, a situation that I greatly prefer.  Because previously the problem related to something that was a mystery to me.  Now, however, the problem is something that I can understand, relate to, and respond to.  She believes me to be a child, haha, I can argue that I am not a child.  Afterall, I have chosen to take the exclusive high road for only the truly noble men.

            “Nuh-uh.”  Terrible dismount, just try and stick the landing.  “I simply choose not to engage in discussions with oppressors and militants.”  Good recovery.  She looks baffled.  I must be winning.

            “What does that even mean?”  Crap.  I hadn’t thought that far ahead.  Now I’m backed against a wall again.  I’m cornered.  I’m screwed.  And on the high road no less.  Where are my war advisors and why didn’t that warn me about this oncoming strike?

            “Hey mom, hey dad, what’s going on?”  My war advisor!  There he is!  He finally entered the fray!

            “Hey son, come ‘ere for a second.”  I pull my son aside as quickly as I can manage.  In this battle, every second could mean another thousand dead.  Brain cells that is.  So I must work fast, because I have so few left to attack with as it is.  “Son, why didn’t you tell me she was mad at me?”

            “I didn’t know.”  A likely excuse.

            “Do you know why she’s mad at me?”

            “Nuh-uh.”  Darn, he’s gonna grow up to be just like his old man.  Shame, too.  He had such potential.

            “Don’t you try and get him to side with you.  This is between you and me.”  Oh no, the ceasefire had fallen through and my wife is back on the attack.  How dare she assume that my son would even think about siding with her.  He’s my trusted war advisor.  He’s gotten me through worse than this, and he’s always stuck by my side.  She can’t split up a bond as close as a father and son’s.  It’s more powerful than she can even imagine.  We shall win this war yet!

            “I’m gonna go play Game Boy upstairs in my room.”  Traitor.  I am now completely on my own in this endeavor.  I didn’t want to think it’d come to this, but it has.  My trusted advisor is dead to me and I’m all alone.  I have no choice but to run the white flag of defeat.

            “I give up!  What did I do?!”  I bet you’re probably curious what I did as well.  In a second we could all find out, and everything will make sense at last.  The war will be over, many will have been lost as a result, but at least the long and terrible war will be over and we can get on with our lives.

            “If you don’t know what you did then I’m not gonna just tell you!”  Of course not, that would be too simple.  This war will likely go on for ages.  Our children’s children will speak of this war and will fight it in themselves.  They will see it with their own eyes and be forced to give their own children to the cause.  There shall be no peace.  And since there shall be no peace, I have no use for the noble high road exclusive to us great men.

            “I am tired of this Mickey Mouse bullshit!  All I was doing was sitting here in my nice comfy chair watching my nice comfy TV on a nice comfy Saturday and I wasn’t doing ANYTHING!”  Perhaps I was a bit too shrill with the last word.  At the very least I withheld nothing and thus can regret nothing.  Except saying anything at all, I suppose I can regret that.

            “That’s just it!”  Now she’s really got me.  Somehow she’s managed to coerce me into saying what I did, and yet I myself do not even know what it is.  That is what power is born from.

            “What’s just it?!”

            “You were doing nothing!”  And thus my mind popped clean out of my skull and just fobbled around on the ground a bit before my wife picked it up and not-so-gently handed it back to me.  If I was to understand correctly, I was in trouble for the simple act of doing nothing at all.  She had caught me in mid inaction.  I was done for.  She had won.  After another few minutes of me trying to grasp this realization, I left the room with my head hung low and a list of chores to be done on the only free day I had in my own kingdom.  It’s rough taking that noble high road so often.

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