When I heard the call, it was clear to me. In the time it takes the heart to make a single beat, I knew that it was time to stalk my prey. I slipped out of bed and into the darkness. In a fluid swipe I pulled yesterdays shirt from a heap of laundry. In mere seconds it was transformed into a Ninja Hat. I was on the move.

I slipped through the bedroom door and made my way thorough the house. As I made my way into the dining room, I laid eyes on my prey. With comically large sneaky steps, I crept ever closer. It was here that I made my fatal mistake.

My movement attracted the attention of the dog. With a mohawk of hair running down his spine, he grumbled danced around me. My scent must have given me away, for he began to leap and play as I stood frozen. My prey was alerted, she turned to face me.

For an instant, fear flashed in her eyes. In a moment of recognition a sly smile spread across her lips. She spoke to me. “What are you doing?”

I was caught, no sense in lying. “I was trying to creep up on you in my ninja hat but the dog gave me away.”

With a smile, my prey turned her back to me and laughed. I removed my Ninja Hat and walked shamefully towards the shower.

The above story is a peek into my life and is not fiction. I am a child at heart and activities like stalking my wife while wearing yesterdays shirt upon my head makes us both laugh. For more silliness, take a look at the posts below.

• Three surefire ways to get a reaction from your wife
• What, you don’t check your work?
• Put Cha’ Spurs On It!
• Childish Fun at my Wife’s Expense
• What are you doing, those pillows are for show!

This piece has been submitted to the #FridayFlash Twitter Group. For more information on that group, and a collective of the submissions, head over to JM Strother’s Mad Utopia.

Post from: Walt in PA

Ninja Hat

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3. Writing Adventure Group Theme #25 – Crimes and Misdemeanors

Both stories revolve around the topic of childish fun. The main difference is that this story takes a deeper look into the inner workings of my mind, which quite frankly may frighten some of you. At the end of the day, I not only keep myself entertained, I usually succeed in making my wife laugh. At times she does more laughing at me than laughing with me but it is all in good fun.

One evening while chatting it up on Twitter, I saw some comments fly back and forth between two people I converse with on a fairly regular basis. The tweet which prompted my story came from Skip (@ChiefHava) and had to do with being “Gangsta”. Shortly after the tweet was made, Lindsay (@TheCigarChick) responded to Skip by asking him just how many of these “Gangsta’s” resided in Skip’s home state of Texas. The brief exchange between the two made me chuckle before moving on to a conversation of my own.

The following morning I rolled out of bed and began making breakfast. While things were sizzling on the stove top, I reached for my Blackberry to get caught up on any tweets I may have missed while I slept. By the time I was finishing up breakfast, I managed to read through all of my new tweets and came back around to the short exchange between Lindsay and Skip. Before getting up from the breakfast table to move to the next stage of my work-week morning routine, my mind began to wander off into this Texas Gangsta thing that was jokingly mentioned the evening before.

Having a rich imagination and a fondness for entertaining myself with inner dialog, I began to put together a Texas Gangsta in my mind. The first stage of this mind game of mine was to create a mental image. I immediately began working through typical stereotypes to generate a framework for my fictional individual. I settled onto taking the Triple O.G. character Damon, from the movie Friday After Next, and putting him in a classic cowboy getup.

As if taking it far enough to generate a mental picture was not enough, I delved deeper into making this mental image into something more. Having an image in my mind was a good start, but my Texas Gangsta needed to make a living somehow. Being little more than a your typical cowboy was kind of lame for such a mental excursion. Dipping back into the stereotypical vault, I decided that to be a socially respectable Gangsta, my character would be a lyricist, slinging rhymes for the masses.

As I arose from the kitchen table to make my way to the shower, I couldn’t simply stop at this stage. My character not only had an image, he had a calling in life. I decided to go one step further and give my rhyme slinging Texas Gangsta lyricist a name. As I ran thought a series of ridiculously stupid names, I settled on one of the more comical in the bunch. At this point, Bovine S-Creations (es-cree-shuns, like excretions. I know, childish wit and all) was born.

As I stepped into the shower, I found myself enjoying this very childish mental exercise. I was repeatedly making myself laugh out loud, which I’m sure would have seemed outright mad had my wife witnessed it. Having gone to far as to create Bovine S-Creations, I had to take it a bit further and give him a platinum single that every teenage kid would be singing in the corridors of junior-high.

This hit single would have to be just as outrageous as S-Creations himself, so I thought about what a Texas Gangsta just might rhyme about. I thought it would only be suitable to draw from the Texas part of the equation. With the stereotype of Cowboys and Steer, I focused in on an essential tool of the cowboy, the spur. Singing about spurs alone would be boring, so I had to give it a little twist. Digging back in to the stereotype vault, I selected sex as the Gangsta part of the equation.

I began to wonder how in the world I would be able to tie sex and spurs together. Rather than forcing it, I instead pictured what the music video might look like. Not having lyrics or a song title made this a little more difficult. Having a general direction of where I was going with all of this, I placed the mental image of S-Creations into an outdoor scene with a variety of barely clothed women. Before long, “Put Cha’ Spurs On It!” was born.

Having taken things this far, I was just about ready to wrap up this mental voyage when I made a last minute decision to come up with a couple of quick lyrics to tie it all together. I’ve always been absolutely horrendous when it comes to rhyming, so I knew the end result was very likely to turn out poorly.

After a series or terrible attempts at rapping, and a number of loud belly laughs as everything unfolded in my mind, I was just about to call it quits and move on with my morning routine. After finishing up in the bathroom, I reached for the door handle and everything finally clicked into place. The lyrics weren’t very good, but I kind of liked them.

Having exerted all of this mental effort on a ridiculous topic brought on by a few random tweets, I thought I would share the end result with my wife. As I came through the bedroom door, dancing as best as I could (which has always been terrible), I found my wife lying in bed, half asleep. I leaped into the bed and nuzzled up behind her. As she stirred from the sudden jolt of the bed moving, I got down to business with my rhyme.

As we lay here, I whispered into her ear “Take her down, go to town”, before kissing her neck. I then pulled away a little and raised my voice a couple of decibels for the next line, “Pick her up, spin her round”, all the while nuzzling closer. I finished strong by ringing out in an obnoxious voice, “Put Cha’ Spurs On It” as I threw my leg over her and gave her a tap with the heel of my foot to simulate a spurring action.

The result of all of my hard work was a look from my wife that simply said “What the hell is wrong with you?”. I put on my best emotionally hurt face and hopped out of bed. As I stood there in my bath robe trying to play the part of an emotionally scarred husband, a little smile spread across my wife’s face as she let out the slightest little laugh and rolled over to go back to sleep.

Now that my fun was through, I continued on with my day and started getting ready to head out to work. As I got dressed, I was finding that the final part of my song was rather catchy. I would randomly sing out “Put Cha’ Spurs On It!” then shake my head and laugh out loud. My wife, was not nearly as amused as I with my newly found way of entertaining myself.

In the course of a single morning, a Texas Gangsta lyricist named Bovine S-Creations was born. He went on to create what he thought was a hit single and music video, only to be shot down by the critics. In my mind, the world just wasn’t ready for what he had in store for them.

In this case, my wife just couldn’t see the humor in the manner that I did. While she may have been laughing at me this morning, she hasn’t heard the last of “Put Cha’ Spurs On It!”, I’ll be belting out that line for weeks to come.

Post from: Walt in PA

Put Cha’ Spurs On It!

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When I say that at times I have fun at my wife’s expense, you are probably thinking practical jokes. Truth be told, it is actually a very rare occurrence for me to perform some sort of practical joke on my wife. I prefer the more subtle annoyances that make her laugh in frustration.

I’ll give you an example of making my wife laugh in frustration. A couple of weeks ago she was watching television in the living room. Syrus was sleeping on the floor next to the sofa and all was peaceful. I came out of my cigar smoking room to get a drink in the kitchen and otherwise see what she was up to. I was in a pretty good mood and for one reason or another had the Sanford and Son theme song stuck in my head. Naturally, I mouthed all the instruments as best I could as I went about my business.

When my wife heard the strange noises I was making to mimic instruments and patch together this theme song, she turned and gave me an odd look. From then on, for the remainder of the day, I mouthed the words to the Sanford and Son theme song while I went about my business. I added a little flare as the day went on and found myself shuffling about, as I imagine Fred Sanford would, as I mouthed the sounds.

By around dinner time, and a solid day of my childish antics, my wife was beginning to get annoyed. Even though she was annoyed with me, she couldn’t help but laugh at the total package of old man dance moves and badly mouthed instruments to the tune of a television theme song that has been off the air for more than a decade.

What made it even funnier was the fact that I was getting into it. I knew it would make my wife laugh, but at this point that was simply a byproduct of my having fun. As I shuffled around the kitchen filling my glass with iced tea, not paying attention to my wife, I on occasional turned to see an annoyed look in her eyes with a smile on her face.

Post from: Walt in PA

Childish Fun at my Wife’s Expense

Possibly related posts:

1. Three surefire ways to get a reaction from your wife
2. Put Cha’ Spurs On It!