Gay Soap and the Exorcism of Wifey

It has been a trying week here in the land of BSR. As you all know Wifey went under the knife last week. She is recovering as well as can be expected, having good days and bad days. She is holding up like a real trooper, and except for a baggie of ground beef where yellow and blue make red puddles in the fridge, I have done an okay job at making things easier for her.

Today I received an instant message from Wifey asking me to come get her this afternoon because she was feeling unwell and didn't trust taking the pain meds at work, as they make her not as able to stop herself from saying the things on her mind (as I found out when the baggie of meat leaked). When you work with a few people you are not overly fond of (no worries Ronnettes, all of you are safe from the fearsome WifeyRage . Others, not so much), it is best to have as many filters as possible. I had planned to go to the bank at lunch, and my particular institution has no branches anywhere within 15 miles of convenient, so I just figured to make a bit of a side trip.

BTW - quick sidebar. I met the father of the Boob Thief. Nice guy. When Wifey introduced him to me as "the father of your arch enemy", he was taken aback just a bit. Once he understood that my only problem with his spawn is that he gets to spend more quality time with my wife's perfect breasts (and yes they are perfect. Just ask her), he immediately commiserated, saying he has the same problem with his wife and BT. He is a good guy. I hope he eventually evens out the time share problem.

So I went and picked her up, and once we went to the bank near her, she decided to nap in the car for the drive back up I-95. She did wake up long enough to ask me to stop at McDonalds and get her 2 Fillet O'Fish sandwiches. We stopped at McD's and got her the requested munchies. She sat up and consumed one vociferously. As she finished the first sandwich, I realized I might need an old priest and a young priest. As she tried to compose herself, I tried to navigate the car while pea soup shot out of her ears and she tested the molecular cohesion of a paper McDonalds bag (I was impressed that she took the time to pull the other sandwich out of the bag before her impression of that scene from Airplane!. Personally, if I bought two of the same thing and ate one and immediately blew chunks, I would probably not be overly concerned about saving the other one for later. Wifey is frugal if nothing else). I got her home, brought out some paper towels and a plastic bag, then went back for the Listerine.

Long story short, she was still feeling a little queasy, but was resting comfortably on the couch at last check. She was already scheduled off for Friday, so she is taking off tomorrow and just resting through the weekend. It seems that her ears (which had been backed up again) had been draining for the better part of 24 hours, and when greasy fish hit that, what happened to her is probably what you are feeling right now.

Now, on to the gay soap. Before her Linda Blair impression, while waiting for her to finish off her work so she could leave for the day, I used the men's room at her place of employment. The soap on the sink was "Lavender Chamomile". THAT is a gay soap (not that there is anything wrong with that). I just expect (especially in a public and/or office environment) for the soap to be neutral. To use a light purple soap and to smell what I can only describe as "UBER-GIRLIE" wafting from my own hands was not what I was expecting.

Wifey's job has gay soap.