My Better Life

“Billy! What’re you doing messing around in here? Don’t you know the kids have to get to school?” Jamie pushes into the kitchen. “Darnit the floor’s all gaumed up. If you’re going to mess around, do it outside.”

I stare at her, my mouth falling open in stupefaction. Then I spit out a feather that slips in.

“Kids. Get to the table. You’ll have to have mushmellon and toast. Billy, pack the lunches. No, never mind. You stink again, go wash off at the hose.”

The hose? The hose again? What am I, a dog?

I’m about to argue. To reprimand the kids. To say something, but then a long, blaring horn interrupts my thoughts.

It sounds again. Beeping out an annoying honking melody.

I glare at Jamie, who somehow looks clean and well-rested and happy. I scowl, ill-tempered and angry. “What is that noise?”

Jamie peeks out the window, then turns back and smiles at me. I notice a dimple in her right cheek, and then I get irritated that I’m noticing things like dimples at a time like this.

“That’s Big Tom. You better get dressed, you’re late for work.” She waves her hands, shooing me out the kitchen. “Get going then. You can hose off when you get back.”

I grit my jaw and sweep my eyes over my wife, my kids.

Jamie smiles at me, and her expression reminds me of the saying sweet as a cherry pie. Her lips are bright red and glossy, and I grow irritated at how sweet they look. I wonder how long it’s been since we kissed.

The horn blares again.

Dang it.

I point a finger at the kids, sitting at the table. “Be good at school.”

They all stare at me, identical wide-eyed expressions on their faces.

As I rush to throw on some clothes, I hear Jamie in the kitchen, “Everwho did this is in a heap of trouble.”

I smile to myself. I guess she’s not so bad, that little red-haired wife of mine.

I throw on an old flannel, cheap jeans that hang off me, and suspenders to hold them up. My boots are too big, and I wonder if losing weight makes your feet smaller. Guess so.

As I yell goodbye and slam out the front door, I feel gleeful, like I’m escaping. Whatever happens at work today, it won’t be half as bad as what I have to deal with at home.