Life Lessons

Hi there, for whatever unfortunate soul stumbles upon this and dares to stick with it, I'm sorry. I am an idiot. A complete, dumbfounded dipshit that nearly lost everything good in his life refusing to pull his head out of his ass, and realize what's really important. Luckily I'm a nice idiot that believes in sharing and maybe you should read it after all. Maybe my mishaps and revelations will help you with yours or prevent you from repeating my mistakes. It is in the, quirky, hopefully not to hard to follow, bits that follow.. See what I did there? Huh? Yeah you're screwed, anyway....

"BABY! BABY?" I smiled as I heard my wife calling me from the basement. "BABY THE LIGHTS ARE OUT!!" Yes, yes they are sweetheart, because as much as I love you, I still kicked the breaker to them. Getting up and putting on my best aggravated beyond words act I stomped down the hallway, through the kitchen, to the utility room where the door to the basement stairs was located.

"Now what?" I asked in complete exasperation.

"No clue, I was just down there maybe an hour ago and they were fine, not even a flicker. Can you fix it maybe?"

Now see I hate this part, she has the most pitiful, adorable 'baby, please' look I've ever encountered and for a bit I feel like such a shit, but, in my... maybe undeserved... defense, I am losing my entire fucking mind!

Ok, great example snippet but guess I better back it up a little. My name is Trevor Thompson and I married the most amazing woman to ever exist... aside from her taste in homes...we'll get to that part later though, bear with me. Leandrea Doss, the gorgeous angel that met me at the Pearly Gates. Okay, really she was the nightshift R.N. unlucky enough to be leaned across me quieting the beeping on some doohickey or another of medical equipment when I first regained consciousness after a brutal accident. Admittedly, it was a stupid skateboarding stunt gone wrong and my life was probably never really in danger but I did snap my leg below my knee pretty bad, screw up the actual knee, and knock myself out cold. I don't care, its my story and I like my version so hmph! 

Leandrea just smiles and rolls her eyes when I tell it now, come to think of it she does that a lot... Anyway, after flat refusing to date me for the six months I suffered terrible abuse at the hands of the evil drill sergeant employed at the same hospital with the title physical therapist... don't date patients ever blah, blah, blah...she finally gave in when I returned a non patient, fistful of amazing, colorful, assorted flowers, practically begging for just one teensy dinner and movie date. She also informed me on the spot that she hates getting flowers and one date, sure, but not that cliche. I was intrigued, confused, and already half in love when I promised to meet her at an address she'd scribbled on a sticky note.

I showed up, nearly got my ass kicked being a smartass to the big, burly dude guarding the door of what looked like an underground garage but was actually the home a badass roller derby, and proceeded to go full on head over heels for this crazy lady. 

I tell her no way it was that fast but yep, fell in love then and there watching her kick ass for her team. They won, she rolled straight over and planted a kiss right on my lips, said 'fuck yea, we won and you showed up! Let's go see if I can scare you off real quick!' and off we went.  

We grabbed a bite at a street stand selling the best tacos I've ever ate, night surfed... again, most incredible woman ever...and sat on the beach by a small fire discussing everything from "life and love' to 'you've done what?!?' to 'maybe chicken little needed his ass kicked' and even 'of course Chad Grey is one of the most badass singers ever' till the sun, literally, came up. 

That was nearly ten years ago now but only three had passed when my story really takes place. 

Leandrea cool as fuck Doss had officially become Leandrea badass Thompson, thank you very much, no hellions to brag about just yet but both of us had been fine with just driving each other crazy for the time being. 

When we decided to get married, we had this little fun wager/if this then that thing going and I ended up getting to plan the wedding but she got to choose our first home. Awesome. Cool. No worries. We rocked it with a badass Halloween style Wedding any self-respecting rebellious, rock music lover with an obsession for skulls and most things dark and mysterious would kill for, honeymooned in Rio, and then....then we came back and moved in here...yep now we're at that part.

Look it's not like we paid a ridiculous price for some rundown, hopeless shack or something, this place is nearly three stories with it's attic; four bedrooms, two baths, a full basement, and attached garage complete with a paint bay for crying out loud. 

Leandrea had taken one look and it was over, done, I was screwed. The bid was placed and accepted, I cried, Leandrea did her happy dance and yeah, over a period of time I slowly became the crazy guy manufacturing little fuck ups around the house and property in a desperate attempt to get my beautiful wife to hate our first home as bad as I did and agree to move. (Yes I knew I was destined for hell for it, no I did not care...don't judge me damn it.)

 Ok let's continue on now.

I fixed the lights to the basement, though I turned a two seconds switch flip into a four hour drama that for all outward appearances, drained me.

"It's finally done baby. Sorry it took so long, think I'm gonna just go grab a beer and try to chill."

"Awwww, thanks my awesome man you!" She jumped up, arms around my neck, legs around my waist, and made me really second guess leaving. 

Again I'm an idiot though. A complete, never deserved her, idiot.

"Hey it's what I do, my baby needs me, I take care of it." I grinned as she put her feet back on the floor, knowing it would buy me points.

"How did I ever get lucky enough for that skateboard to beat your ass so close to my hospital at the time?" cue that wicked smile I still love to this day.

I had went out, laid out all night getting shitfaced out of stress and probably guilt I refused to admit, and drug home in time to mumble some half assed goodbye as she was leaving for work. 

Just to further solidify just how stupid I was then I'd like to add that no argument ever came of that, no harshness from her at all. In fact I had woke hours later to a note under a bottle of Excedrin telling me how much she loved me, was worried about the stress obviously getting to me, and that I should take some time off both from my business (I do custom paint jobs on motorcycles and hot rods) and things going wrong at the house. She'd handle it and I could just relax and regroup for a bit. 

Now you'd think I would have stopped and seen what a moron I was being doing someone who loved me so much the way I was doing her simply because I hated our nosey, goody two-shoes neighbors, being a full three hours from the ocean I grew up surfing and fishing and wind sailing, upkeep on the big ass backyard, remodeling she wanted done, the general snotty personality of the community, and a million other bullshit reasons I have a bit of dignity and won't list.

I indeed jumped all over her "brilliant, thoughtful, just what I need I think, thank you baby" suggestion. Finished the couple bike jobs already paid for and stopped accepting clients for a full two weeks figuring I'd have more time to plan and carry out new mishaps needing fixed to fuss about; with her insisting on doing everything while I took a break to get back to my normal happier self, I felt damn near guaranteed to be heading back to our old town in no time. 

Never did I see how perfect the place is to start a family, boasting a great school system, low crime rate, or how it was so close to her new job with a hospital she could really climb the professional ladder at, enjoying a fulfilling career and early retirement and that without it I couldn't have dreamed about taking two weeks off to be an asshole. 

The day after I finished the last bike was perfect for outdoor fuckery. Sunny, about 85 degrees with a great breeze blowing through and no obligation to be hemmed up in the garage's paint bay for hours. 

Sadly, our new garden showed all the signs of having attracted some hungry, borrowing creatures and others from above ground that also thought it was fine dining. 

The wooden shed storing lawn equipment became the unlucky new home to a colony of termites and would likely begin attracting other hated insect pests due to some hidden away scrumptious incentives. 

I felt bad, not bad enough to stop, over the shower stall in the master bathroom as whoever used it next may end up soaped up, losing all water pressure, and hot water too. I really did hope it wouldn't be a morning she was already running late I swear I did! 

Day two saw the unpredictable pain in the ass of some pest having apparently found it's way into the attic and nesting in boxes of put away papers I figured weren't too big a deal but Leandrea nearly had a psychotic break, calling an exterminator at one in the morning and proceeded to lose her shit when the only response she got was a voicemail. Unavoidable collateral damage; poor people. I was well aware she could have one hell of a temper if provoked correctly. 

Don't feel too bad for 'em, damn, they ended up with a huge batch of killer oatmeal and raisins cookies once she calmed down and almost died from embarrassment. 

That was a crazy week, I tried mowing the lawn but the riding mower's brakes failed as I started down the slope on the side opposite the garage causing it to slam into the house so hard it cracked the foundation, trashed the mower, and left the inside wall of one of the bedrooms looking as if it had developed a zit; thank God I bailed off when I did... 

Activists from the local college began leaving "fur is murder" hate mail and other nasty yet harmless surprises after an anonymous source let slip the house belonged to a big to do in that industry. Someone reported us to our homeowners association, falsely claiming several violations. 

An upstairs study developed a God awful stench from an unidentifiable source and when all she did was block the room off and go to bed, I knew I was getting close. 

I hated seeing her so upset but just knew once we moved back I could make everything great again and it would be fine. 

I allowed a few days of nothing going wrong just to keep everything seemingly coincidental, unfortunately Leandrea had an abscent-minded moment, decided on wearing a faux zebra hide skirt to run a few simple errands on her day off and some little shithead threw bright red paint on her as soon as she got out the vehicle back at home. It covered her and got on her precious SUV as well. If anything could've gotten me to stop it would've been this incident...the girl stupid enough to hide, wait, and carry that through was also stupid enough to want picture proof to show off her courageous actions for the cause and didn't realize she may have faired better backhanding an enraged bull while wearing only red. She learned a lesson she wouldn't forget, Leandrea nearly went to jail with assault charges, and someone retaliated by flattening all her tires and busting out the large backglass to spray paint obscenities all over the leather interior. 

She took a few days personal time, talked about putting in her resignation and finding somewhere else, much to my delight and horror once it began dawning on me how it was affecting her. 

I swore I was done, I'd start taking clients again immediately, fix all the shit I'd messed up...that she hadn't already dealt with...and just suck it up. 

A call from an old buddy in town on business, few drinks and laughs, and his claims of genius concerning my devious measures had me recommitting to it; it would also be the downfall that nearly killed me. 

More little random problems came about midway into that second week and even though Leandrea had returned to work, I knew it was just a matter of time before I'd succeed and we'd leave this place in our rearview, never to speak of again. 

I was enjoying a cold beer and reruns of an old favorite show when Leandrea stormed in, yanked the power cord out of the wall and declared me a son of a bitch. Before I could bother to act confused she informed me she'd gotten a very informative call from a old friend, one who just so happened to be married to an old friend of mine I'd recently caught up with and were I to be thinking on a good story I better consider her vast knowledge in the medical field, particularly horrible non lethal proceedures that could permanently alter human anatomy...I gave you the edited version, you're welcome. 

I did attempt excuses and even arguing because as I've stated and you must be aware by now I am stupid. 

We were in a heated screaming match when suddenly she just stopped mid sentence, turned and walked out of the room, I was on my stupid kick to the max and continued yelling all the reasons I was right and it was somehow her damn fault anyway. 

I wouldn't see her again until our daughter was born. 

I had finally realized how quiet it was besides my yelling and proceeded to stomp through the house bitching and muttering for good measure. When she wasn't inside I threw open the front door yelling about planning a wedding she'd loved while she picked this bullshit place to move to and stopped dead as the front steps came into view. 

Her engagement ring and wedding band sat on top of what would turn out to be our marriage certificate and the deed to the house and property, her signature acknowledging her agreement to sale already filled in on the back. I stood there for what had to have been an hour just staring at the white gold circles shining in the sunlight resting on their little white rectangular display base before I found the ability to lurch forward, drop to my knees, and learn true fear. 

Over the next couple months I turned into an alcoholic, going through four of what they claim are the five stages of death; denial, anger, bargaining, and depression became a nasty little cycle for me and to my horror I realized I couldn't find it in myself to sale the damn place. 

The day her letter arrived I placed it on a semi clean spot on the coffee table and proceeded to pace around it in a nearly manic state just knowing it was divorce papers. I let it lay there for two full days before I couldn't take it anymore and after a sobbing, blubbering, snot pouring break down upon reading her obviously very thought-out words I took a shower, cleaned the house from top to bottom, and threw out every last bit of alcohol. I wanted to call, to visit, but she'd already warned it would do no good to even try as her number had changed and the P.O. box number on the letter was two towns away from her actual residence. I could write her, nothing more. So I did, I wrote her, painted bikes, remodeled the house, landscaped everything the way she'd once dreamed of having it done, stayed sober, and prayed, man how I prayed.

She kept me updated on how the baby and pregnancy was doing but not much else, I understood that but man how I hated it. 

I booked a motel room a week early in the same town as the hospital where our child would be born, bringing pictures of the house along.

Alarissa was born three days later, I bawled, begged forgiveness, showed evidence of my change, and again I prayed; but a week later I went home alone a broken man.

Now I told you in the beginning that was ten years ago and you already know it was only almost the end of me so I'll hold off no further letting you know I answered a knock on my door to find my wife and two month old daughter on the other side and life has been pretty amazing since. Crazy thing now, I look around here and realize I love this place and nearly nothing could make me want to leave it.