I think that the depth of the human soul and one’s capacity for both love and hate can be well defined by a simple story I have to share this lovely spring day. On Wednesday, Jeff and I were out house hunting. Which is less fun than it sounds, why are real estate agents liars? The first place we stopped had a bonus chicken coup that was mentioned nowhere in the description. I digress, that is a story for another day.
We stopped at this one house that looked to be vacant. I hated the driveway enough to veto on site but Jeff wanted a closer look. He said he was going to knock on the door and see if anyone was home. Which is weird to do, but he is a strange fella so I just stayed behind, applied some chapstick and called my mother, who had just locked her keys in the car and had some time to kill. A few minutes later, he comes tearing around the house like he is being chased by a rottweiler or someone with a shotgun.
I totally. freaked. out. I screamed in my mother’s ear and dropped the phone. I don’t know what I was looking for (a weapon?) All I have in the car is an emery board. (Note to self: get a gun.)
I look at his face as he reaches the door and he switches from terror to unabashed amusement. (F&%*ing theater major.) He points at me and laughs as I pick up the phone with my mother on the end hollering “What’s wrong???!!!”
He thought this was terribly entertaining. Two for the price of one.
This would be the third time he’s done something to scare me while I’ve been on the phone with my mother.
Normally, his modus operandi is to simply hide behind something, lie in wait for me to happen by and pop out. Sometimes he is more creative and uses props to frighten me (another story for another day.) Sometimes he scares me without actually meaning to.
Jeff says I scare better than anyone he knows. I make fun noises. But the problem is that now I’m getting a complex. I’m constantly waiting for him to scare me and I think it is going to make my hair fall out. And there’s nothing worse than a bald bride.
He’s freaking me out.
It’s pissing me off.
Yes, it is kind of funny, but don’t tell anyone I’ve said so.
So, I was mad. Really mad. Really, really mad about the incident. And when we got home, there was this:
and these 
Even though we’re going to be moving (hopefully) very soon, he planted my herbs and flowers because he knows I’d like to sit on the porch and enjoy them.
I’m loving him again. Until the next time he decides to play an evil prank.
Then the gloves are off.
