LITTLE ROUND GREEN THINGS

Little Round Green Things

Once upon a time in the fabled land called Hoosierdom, there lived a worthy man of modest means and a gracious woman of venerable demeanor. Fortune neither smiled nor ignored this husband and wife as they faithfully followed the rhythm of everyday life within their cloistered and cherished home. Part and parcel of that rhythm of living was the hurrying home after a full day of labor for the both of them so that they could escape the dehumanizing effects of the commercial world by taking full measure of the domestic tranquility that their Indiana home afforded. As was his habit upon arriving at his conjugal sanctuary, the Lord of the Manor would find sweet rest and spiritual renewal while lying prone upon his majestic Lazy Boy recliner. A nodding light slumber was the usual result of his repose while his strong right hand firmly clutched the television remote in a death grip that would ensure the familiar feeling of security that the electronic device always faithfully produced. Meanwhile, the Lady of the Citadel usually fortified her calming time with a generous glass of chilled white wine while his worship was gently rejuvenating upon his throne. On just such an ordinary day as this, when the sweet and perfumed Indiana countryside was wafting gently past opened windows, there was a old familiar stirring within the Madam of the Manor as she looking longingly at the Potentate of the Palace reclining in masculine splendor upon the Lazy Boy. She answered the stirring within her by coming to the side of her soul mate, and thereupon, she began to gently stroke and whisper promises of love to the old dog resting there halfway between sleep and awareness. What the Madam could not have known was that the old dog was experiencing a vision while simultaneously responding to the urgings of his one and only. Now, it is well known that men are prone to unusual dreams and visions, but a vision of Lady Gaga beckoning him to engage in worldly delights is a little beyond the pale. So, in a state of blathering Simi conscientiousness, the man responded to his loving wife by sputtering, “Lady Gaga, Lady Gaga, I’m coming, I’m coming”. This response to the call of love that the Lady of the House had offered caused a major disruption in the force. In fact, the words “Lady Gaga” muttered by the hapless man transformed the Lady of the Citadel forthwith into the Dominatrix of the Domicile. Where gentle love had once reigned, there was now a sudden desire for hurtful revenge. With billions and billions of neurons urgently firing away in the brain of the Dominatrix, a satisfying revenge was settled upon. Off to the kitchen she went, and with purpose strong, the Mistress of the House began to prepare dinner. When all was ready, she called to her shipmate to come and take his exalted place at the head of the table. The man stirred and rose to take his dinner with his loving wife. The man at once noticed that there was a strange smell mixing with and overpowering the delightful aroma of the Indiana countryside. It was a foul smell and he soon discovered from whence the dreadful aroma originated from. It was right there in front of him. It was right there on the dinner plate that his wife had placed before him. There they were, little round green things. They were just sitting there like the spawn of the Devil and producing a scent that surely originated from the depths of hell and fanned into resisting nostrils by the switching of old Scratch’s tail. The man looked at his wife. His wife was smiling with an unusual sweetness that alerted the man at once that he had done something very wrong. Men know this because they are always doing something wrong that they did not know was wrong and men have forever relied upon their wives to sweetly notify them that they have indeed mussed up big time. Well, a man has to do what a man has to do, and with a fork reluctantly sequestered in his stabbing hand, he speared one of the little round green things and put it in his mouth. Oh the humanity! The taste was equal to the smell as his grinders crushed the little round green thing and released a taste so disgusting that the man nearly hurled onto the dinner table. After the man had eaten all of the little round green things placed before him by his wife, he knew he would be forgiven for whatever he had done even though he knew not what it was that he had done. So men, when you wife places Brussels sprouts before you, go ahead and take your medicine. This is so because Brussels sprouts were only created to punish man for his transgressions against women and the universe cannot be make right again until the little round green things have went down the pie hole.