Freezing Weather and My Wife’s Indifference to Safety.

by Brandon

For the past couple days, we’ve seen a massive cold front pass through our area. We’re used to cold winters in the mountains of Virginia, but we’re definitely not used to weather this cold. We saw sub-zero temperatures, which is rare around these parts.

The news said this was caused by a “Polar Vortex,” which is proof that most meteorologists are nerds. I mean, Polar Vortex sounds like something Doctor Who would encounter.

Anyway, this particular nerdy weather front caused us some unusually cold weather… and that cold weather caused me to learn something important about my wife:

When dealing with dangerous levels of cold, my wife doesn’t seem to care about taking important safety precautions.

Don’t get me wrong, she cares about the basic stuff. She cares about having running water and she cares about having fireplace wood and candles (in case the power goes out). And she made sure we had plenty of food and water.

So yeah, she’s got the basics, which is good, I suppose.

But when I suggested we “burn our blood,” she just ignored me completely!

“Seriously,” I explained, “it’s vital that we put our blood in a saucer and burn it with a lighter.”

She sighed. That’s right, she sighed. I’m trying to save our lives, and her reply is a frickin’ sigh.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” I said.

“Here’s what I know,” She said. “I know you’re trying to get me to ask about it so you can go off on some ridiculous tangent.”

“NO!” I said. “This is real. I saw it on a documentary. There’s a creature that comes out in arctic weather. It has the ability to mimic any living thing. It could be you. It could be me.”

“That’s The Thing,” she said.

“No,” I said. “The Thing is the rock-guy from the Fantastic Four. I’m talking about a creature I saw on TV. The only way to know we’re both human is to put our blood in a dish so we can burn it. If it’s the creature, the blood will jump and scream when the fire touches it.”

“That wasn’t a documentary,” my wife said. “It was the movie The Thing. It came out in the 80s and starred Kurt Russell.”

“Stop arguing about details!” I said. “I’m trying to save our lives here!”

“I’m gonna’ fix something to eat,” she said, slyly trying to change the subject. “You want something?”

“I want to live, but apparently you don’t!” I screamed.

“I don’t want to die,” she said, “but sometimes, I want to kill–”

“Go get a lancet,” I said. A lancet is a little device diabetics use to prick their fingers. Since my wife’s a diabetic, we have plenty of lancets.

“I’m not getting a lancet,” she said. “I am, however, going to fix a sandwich. Do you want one?”

“GO GET THE DAMN LANCET!” I screamed again. “And yeah, I’ll take a sandwich if you’re fixing them.”

We spent the rest of the Polar Vortex arguing about doing a blood test. She flatly refused to let me test her. Which leads me to think one of two things is true:

Either she simply doesn’t care about proper safety, or a shape-shifting monster has taken over my wife’s body.

I kind of hope it’s the latter, but I suspect it’s the former. She just doesn’t care about safety. I mean, she wouldn’t even let me order a tranquilizer gun, which reduced my chances of capturing a Yeti to zero.

Sometimes, I don’t know how I put up with her irresponsible crap.



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