Dean and I are so very different and if I’m going to be completely honest with myself then I have to give him a little bit of credit for the way he has learned how to deal with me and my… eccentricities. It is not uncommon that I engage him in strange tasks solely to amuse and entertain myself.
I used to give Dean lists and send him to the store to pick up items that I knew would make him very uncomfortable. Not like Tampons or anything as that doesn’t bother him so much, but I would spend a great amount of time in thought coming up with the perfect list and then I’d shove it into his hand and push him out the door.
Run by the store on your way home from work and pick up the following:
a tub of lard
one large squash
Dean would absolutely panic at the sight of these lists. There would be times when he would shove them back in my hands as if he had been burned upon touching the paper. “Fuck no, Kyra! You go and get your weird ass shit yourself and leave me the fuck out of it!” he would often say. I would pout and ask him what the big deal was and act very melodramatically until he finally stomped out the door with the list and, boy, would he be mad.
I also like to do things slowly to him. I requested a ferret, begged for weeks for one and as soon as he agreed I informed him that we would have loads of fun with the ferret.
“Um. What kind of fun?” he asked looking a bit apprehensive.
“I’m going to dress the ferret up in clothes and carry it around with me everywhere I go like those retarded celebrities do with their tiny dogs.” I replied.
“Oh. Okay,” he said with an amused look on his face.
“And you’re going to be my handler.” I explained.
“Come again? Your handler?”
“Yeah. I’m going to have you follow us around everywhere we go and frequently pass the ferret off to you to hold while I attend to things. You can walk, say, four feet or so behind me all day and carry my ferret who will be dressed like Zsa Zsa Gabor. It’ll be fun. I’ll wear huge sunglasses.”
“Jesus, Kyra. Are you serious?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied.
It took about ten minutes to get him to agree to this which is a big improvement because he used to hold out for much longer. Then, last night, I hit an all time record:
“Hey Dean,” I said.
“Yes, my darling?” he replied.
“I want you to take Sonic to Petsmart and have his picture taken with Santa.” I said.
“Oh. Okay.” he answered. “Wait. Who in the hell is Sonic?”
I get a bit annoyed and answer, “Ummm… SONIC??? You know…. our FISH???” I roll my eyes a bit to let him know that I think he is an idiot.
“The fish is named Sonic?” he asks looking puzzled. “When did that happen?”
“The kids named him the day we got him, you turd.”
“Oh, okay.” he says.
“So you’ll take him then? Thank you.” I reply.
“The fish?? You want me to take the fish to go and sit on Santa’s lap and get pictures, correct? How much is this going to cost???”
“I dunno.” I say. “It can’t be much.”
“I’ll call Petsmart and find out but just for the record, I am going to feel like a total douche walking in there with a fucking fish to see Santa. This is bullshit, just so you know.”
I am offended by this and the lower lip comes out. I look at Dean. He looks at me. He is trying not to laugh and I ask him what the fuck he finds so funny.
“You just asked me to take the fish and have him photographed with Santa. That’s ridiculous, Kyra.”
“But, will you do it?” I ask.
“Yeah. I’ll take the fucking fish.”
I was very impressed with the lack of argument that I usually get in response to my outrageous requests. It would appear that Dean is getting used to me after all these years and realizes that it is much faster to simply oblige me instead of arguing. Perhaps he thinks that I will lose interest and stop asking him to do weird shit or something. I, however, am going to have to get a lot more creative.
There was only one time when Dean absolutely refused to pull some stunt that I asked him to do. I was aggravated by some dumb bitch I knew and so I asked him to climb up onto her roof in the middle of the night and toss a bag of manure into her air conditioning duct. He was horrified that I had asked him to do this and stubbornly refused. Like a pussy.
“You’re a pussy.” I told him.
We argued over that one for a week and he finally agreed to don the black sweats and ski mask I had acquired for him and dump the bag of shit into the air conditioner. But then, something told him that he oughtta find out what would happen if he did that and so he researched it a bit and discovered that he could potentially kill the people living in the house with carbon monoxide poisoning.
“Kyra, I have no interest in killing anyone.” he says.
“Yeah. I don’t want to kill anyone either. What are the odds, you think, that they’ll wake up and smell the shit and get out before they die?”
“Fine. They have small children anyways.”
And so we mutually agreed to not accidentally kill anyone on purpose but I admit that I was very disappointed that tossing a bag of shit into someone’s a/c duct could do such a thing because it really would have been very funny and satisfying if it didn’t kill people. Who would have thought?
So, I brainstormed and discovered that tossing dead fish in there would be just as fun and wouldn’t kill anybody at all. When I went to him with this new proposal, he stubbornly refused and so it never got done. Oh, well.
The good news is that Sonic will get to have his picture taken with Santa.
So, that’s cool, at least.