Brad is away this evening; he has gone down to Rhode Island so that he can go to the auction tomorrow morning with Nate...to buy me a car. Wow. What a nice man. So I have decided to dedicate this post to him.
Penny's blog about being a closet nerd and watching the NASA channel reminded me of a story I wanted to tell about Brad. Pen, you must be related to him or something. Last week when the landlords were away and we were watching Shep, I was especially attuned to nocturnal noises. About 3:30 one morning, I awoke, heard something, and got up. Now, Cliff and Sarah had asked us to keep the radio on for Shep so he wouldn't feel lonely...( It was tuned to NPR so he could stay up to date with all the liberal news from around the world.) ( Okay- I like NPR.) Well, I heard Shep barking long and loud and I heard the radio upstairs turned up WAY louder than I remembered leaving it. I was pretty scared. So what did I do? I went back to bed and hoped that Brad would deal with it. I lay awake thinking that I heard footsteps upstairs. Were they dog steps or human steps? Hmmm. You know how everything seems worse at night? I was completely convinced that there were ROBBERS upstairs. ( Ever since my youth, the term has been "robbers" in our household. Not burglars, not bandits, not marauders, not thieves. Robbers.) By a stroke of luck, Brad did get up. ( This bodes well for the future - babies crying in the middle of the night and all that. No, I'm not pregnant.) But I didn't tell him that I was sure there were robbers upstairs. I think it was partly that I didn't want him to scoff at me, and partly that I was afraid that if he thought it was dangerous, he might be scared. ( What was I thinking?) Moments passed. More moments. Surely, he should be coming back by now! The robbers must have killed him! I began getting really desperate...somehow I just KNEW that the robbers were out in the living room waiting for me to come out. So I took my pepper spray and the cordless phone, my finger poised over the 9 so I could dial 9-1-1 with lightning speed, and stepped out into the living room...and there sat... Brad on the couch...watching the NASA channel. Oh my word. Well, in his defense, the shuttle was supposed to land that morning. But it was 3:30 in the morning...!! I was so glad to see him alive. My fears melted away like the Wicked Witch of the West. They seemed pretty ridiculous in the light of the living room. On one side of the door, I was picturing masked men, guns, pools of blood...and on the other side, my husband was sitting on the couch, watching pictures of the earth from space. My imagination is way too active.
Brad has an unusual skill: lying. Deceit, falsehood, whatever you want to call it. Several months ago, we indulged in some food of the Chinese persuasion. The fortune in his cookie, as he read it, went something like this, " A big man sees a small world and changes nothing." Or maybe it was, " A small man sees a big world and does nothing." I can't remember. Either way, we were both trying to figure out what that meant...and then he told me, about ten minutes later, he had totally made it up! Well, last week we had Chinese food again and when it came time to read the fortune in the cookie, he read what seemed to me to be a totally transparent, bogus, Bradley-brand lie. It was something like, " The man who does not think about his future does not have one." There was something about the way he read it...slowly, hesitating...I just knew I'd caught him this time. So I hastened to let him know that this time, he had not pulled one over on me. YES. Ah...the thrill of victory. He smiled, conceding defeat, and read the real fortune. I can't remember what it was...but when we got out to the car, he gave me the little slip of paper to read...and there it was: " The man who does not think about his future does not have one." He HAD pulled the wool over my eyes. He had made up the second one! And it sounded so real! I mean- the one he made up sounded better than the real one! I wish I could remember what it was. Oh my word. What a cunning little trixter. I'll have to ask him when he gets home and let you all know what it was. I think he has a real future as a fortune cookie writer.