Laced with Mountain Dew burn out, and Dorito induced head numbness, I’ll attempt to describe a small, miniscule dilemma, that although has me semi-worked up, I do recongize the fact that it’s so insignifianct. Although my current marriage associations are not close enough to give me Murphy’s Law verbatim, I’ve watched enough TV drama in my youth to know all the cynical viewpoints.
Times are changing but the relationship problems remain the same.
Over a quarter of a century ago, my father would arrive home, and be faced with a moral dilemma: Do I spend time with the wife watching TV, or go play pool with the guys?
This very day, although the activities have changed, the decision to spend time with da misses, or day boyz is still in effect: Do I travel with my girlfriend and a few aquaintances to Dathamor to help improve her hand-to-hand fighting skills to learn meditation to help her Doctoring abilities OR do I hang with the boyz in outlying Germany, playing the parts of American and German solidiers respectfully, fighting to the teeth and falling over dead, only to be resurrected 8 seconds later to repeat the whole process until that campaign’s goal is won?