Idiot Buttons

This morning, during one of our frequent debates about the nature of our cat - I say he's okay; Lope says he's a jerk - my wife said something that made me very happy.

"It's amazing to me that you're so smart, and so insightful, and yet on some things your viewpoint is completely simple-minded and ridiculous."

I appreciate the tact involved in that personal attack. It represents a great deal of respect and consideration to make sure you don't offend someone when you call him an idiot.

And I am an idiot, we decided. Not about the cat thing - I'm right about that - but about assorted other items, items which are as particular to me as they are to everyone else.

I'm crazy for fireworks, motorcycles and rollercoasters. I just am. It's beyond my control.

Penelope is probably the only wife in America who knows that if a naked woman were to pull up in our driveway riding an MV Agusta F4 750, I'd only notice the bike.

And nothing in heaven or earth could stop me from going out to look at that motorcycle - not rain or sleet or dense fog or heavy artillery being detonated in the breakfast nook. No one knows why.

Likewise, if there were a woven basket of handmade jewelry to sift through, nestled into a warm cozy bed you could lie in as you sifted, Lope would pole vault across lava fields to get there.

That's how our cat Noah is about food - the poor little guy has some crazy food fixation, and he seems to come this close to starving to death three times a day, judging by the shrillness of his meowing - even though he's far from undernourished. Oh, and mischief. If there's something to climb up on or knock off of a high ledge, it's all he can do to restrain himself until you're not looking.

All you can do is keep an eye on him when you're home and hope he behaves when you're gone. You can't expect him to be good, any more than you could expect me to pay attention to what you're saying when there are fireworks going off behind your head.

Penny summed it up perfectly, and phrased it kindly to boot - we're all idiots about something or other. And getting to know someone is the exciting, frightening process of finding out what kind of idiot you're dealing with, and deciding whether or not you can deal with that.

Sorry, Honey: fireworks, motorcycles and rollercoasters. That's what you get. Thanks for bearing with me.

At least it's not crack.