Well, He Hasn't Dumped Me Yet.

Usually when someone asks "how are things going with the Rascal?" my reply is "he hasn't dumped me yet." This usually invokes a barrage of questions aimed at determining whether or not the Rascal and I are gossip worthy. Then I have to explain that everything is fine except when I'm being a royal idiot, which is basically a daily occurrence. While I don't care for the attention that my stock reply gets, I must own that in a very twisted way I do enjoy seeing the wash of disappointment cover the faces of the gossip mongers when they realize that our conversation has been fruitless as far as gossip goes. Is that wrong? Anyway. My idiocy. I may as well change my name to Bridget Jones. Because no matter how hard I try to control myself, I always say to wrong thing. Like today- I told the Rascal I hated him. That's right, I looked at the man and said "I hate you." He had gotten me all wet. And by wet: I mean with a hose-pipe. And by hose-pipe I mean: we were finished burning leaves in his yard so he was spraying water on the fire and then he thought it would be funny to spray me a little. So I was forced to retaliate, but instead of getting the hose away from him to spray him back, he soaked my clothes. I am certain he knows I don't really hate him. But I am aware that some things once said, even in jest, linger. If today was the only example of my foot in mouth conduct I'd be less apt to brood. But the silverlining is: he hasn't dumped me yet.