A Marriage Made In Heaven -- with a moose head

Today the Florida Lotto Jackpot stands at $11,000,000.

I mention that fact because marriages, even a 38-year one like ours, are fragile.

Especially when you’re married to a left-handed, wrong-headed woman like the one I'm married to.

Consider the case of my moose head.

Saturday morning Ginny and I enjoyed a 2-hour- chat over a leisurely breakfast at Dave’s Dinner. Our conversation ranged world-wide in scope and then moved beyond this world to the Hereafter.

She said the only thing that bothers her about the prospect of Heaven is that Jesus said, “In the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven”. (Whatever that means).

As we sipped coffee we both stated that we love being married to eachother and that we’re sure that whatever Jesus meant, it is something good, something beyond our imagining.

I assured her that the first thing I plan to do in the resurrection is to feel around underneath my white robe to check out what’s there! (With this earthly prostate cancer thing still in the decision stage, you can understand my concern).

We discussed how we think we’ll each feel if one of us dies first which is likely, baring a car crash or house fire or something of the sort when we’re together that would send us both Home at the same time.

We had a great time discussing these things at leisure as we also talked about upcoming local elections, fake fur, Food Stamps, Iraq, dog care, our garden, motorcycles, and how we will spend our Lotto winnings — the jackpot is up to eleven million this week.

We love to be together and talk with eachother.

After breakfast we drove around doing normal Saturday errands: the bank, the hardware store, the library, the grocery, the tire place, etc…

As we drove down one residential street, I saw it!

A MOOSE HEAD.

A stuffed moose head!

At a yard sale as we drove past.

That woman I’m married to was driving and I urged her to turn back and circle the block so I could buy the moose head.

Our home does not have a moose head.

She kept on driving!

Can you believe that?

The one chance I’ve ever had in my whole life to get my very own moose head and she refused to stop the car!

I mean the walls of our home (at least her share of themt) display these doctor’s waiting room pictures of kittens and dirt-eating plants with flowers, and photos of our kids (as if we’re likely to forget what they look like) and insipid stuff like that.

Whereas the walls I decorate display tasteful object d’art — like the shark hook, the African spear, Miss April 1996, and a 1588 Map Of London. And that graffiti I wrote about last year, The Ugliest Picture In The World.

But we lack a Moose Head.

I feel deprived!

Now we are two calm, reasonable people except, of course, for her.

So we discussed buying my moose head.

“Just where in our house would you put a moose head? Those antlers must spread eight feet wide,” she said.

Well, I just happen to have a perfect place for it.

Yes, indeed.

I’ll have to move the shower curtain rod over for a foot or two, but I can make room for my own moose head!

Well, we haven’t remained happily incompatible for 38 years without learning how to compromise.

That means she finally agreed with me… with one stipulation:

I get to buy my own Stuffed Moose Head … with the money I win as soon as I hit the Lotto jackpot.

And if I don’t win Lotto?

I’ll bet all those mansions in Heaven will have moose heads on the wall!