We were watching the Prez on The View and though Skeeter wanted to hear the show, I spent a good time razzing him about how Obama was missing the Scout Jamboree and how, because he was honorary chief scout or some such fool thing, he was breaking all those kids' hearts by not being there. Basically I was towing the Fox News line and driving Skeeter up the wall (which is always fun).Then, suddenly, during a commercial, he said, "I think it's time you started talking to Boo."
By this he meant Boo-Boo. The other human. His ersatz significant other. "No way, and it ends there," I said.
"What do you mean, 'It ends there!'" he said with a hint of rage. "When I open a subject to be discussed by you and me, that discussion does not end until I decide that it is ended."
"Big words from such a little man," I said and jumped off the La-Z-Boy.
"Get back here!" he hollered.
"No. I've made my decision and we're not discussing it."
"Well, I'll just tell him then," he said, following me into the kitchen. I sipped some water and ignored him. "What do you say to that?" I said nothing. I sat on my mat and did that thing with my eyes like I was going to snooze. "Come on, what would you do if I just told him!" he yelled. I curled up on the mat, and closed my eyes and sighed like I was soooooooo tired. "I'M TALKING HERE! WHAT...WOULD...YOU...DO...IF...I...JUST...TOLD...HIM!" I opened my eyes to look at him, gave him an expression that said: Oh! You're still here? Then I closed my eyes again. He lost it a little, picked me up angrily and trundled me back to the chair and said, "We need to talk about this." Again, silence. Then he took my face in his hands and looked at me and said, "I asked you a question." Or, rather, he hissed it. I looked at him stupidly and yawned.
It was a stand-off. Then he just roared: "SAY SOMETHING, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"
I yawned again and finally said, "You see. That's what would happen if you told him. Nothing. He would think you're just crazy. Or taking too much oxycodone."
I saw the veins first. The one pulsing in his temple and the one swelling in his neck. Then there was the red in his face. I did what any dog would do to avoid violence: I licked his nose.
He crumpled, pushed back on the chair until we were both on full tilt. I said, "Look. I've thought about this. It'll happen some time, I suspect. But not now. I have to gauge the dynamics. For instance: do you have any idea how I would fit in if all of us were talking?"
"I hadn't thought of that," he said.
"Well I have. I'd be asked to mediate arguments. I would be asked to take sides in discussions and debates and I don't mean debates on the big issues—wars and the environment—I mean little domestic debates like potatoes or rice for supper! And you'd start to try to play me off against the other—"
"—we're not 12!—"
"—no, you're worse; you're two queer guys playing house who badly need a kid!"
"Oh you are the little homophobe, aren't you?"
"Puh-leeeeeeeeze!" I howled. "Have you seen the hours you two can spend nattering about who should make the coffee and whether or not the drops of water on the bathroom floor were left there by you or by dripping plumbing! This place is hardly the Algonquin Round Table!"
"My God, you are a creep!" he almost squeaked.
"No. I'm just realistic. Look: it was a big move talking to you and even now every dog and cat in the neighbourhood has told me I was crazy to do it. But, I have to admit, it's worked out okay. I'm not so sure it would be okay if Boo was in the mix."
"But it's not fair. I feel like we're keeping something from him."
"I agree. It's not fair. And one day I will do something about it. But t will be me. Not you. Got it!" He mumbled something. He had lost this one and he knew it and he also knew that when he lost it was best to just shut up or I would have a giggle rubbing his nose in it. "I want to know more about him. So I want you to ask him questions—when I'm in the room—so I can get a good idea of who he is and how he would handle this talking business."
"How did you do that with me?"
"With you it was different," I said.
"How so."
"Well, with you I was bored and thought it would be less boring if we could chat from time to time. I was wrong but that's neither here nor there."
He pulled me into a hug but as he did so he put his hand around me neck and squeezed ever so slightly and whispered, "It would pop off like a cork."
I just snerfed.
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