Monday, September 08, 2008

My wife, she still gets jealous


My father bumped into a friend of a business associate this weekend at our neighborhood flower shop. As he talked to the owner of the shop he noticed an old man staring at him. My father recognized the man but wasn’t sure the man had recognized him it had been over a decade since they had last met. Despite his age he carried himself like a much younger man. “You’re Pompa’s boy aren’t you? he asked my father. “I’m no one’s ‘boy’ but yeah I know Sam" dad replied. The old man had a memory like a hawk he remembered everything about my dad, Sam had always spoken very highly of my father he told him.


“You still with married to that Spanish girl?” the old man asked as he glanced at me. My father nodded his head, “Yeah we’re coming up on our 27th wedding anniversary in few weeks.” My dad put his hand on my shoulder, “This is our oldest daughter, Mia.” “Cheaper to keep her right?” the old man joked. My dad nodded his head in agreement. “I spoke to your wife a couple of times when you weren’t around. Sweet girl, a real looker too you done good there kid.” My dad thanked him. He stared at my father, “You know I always thought you were Italian. Even though Sam told us you were Puerto Rican we all felt you had to have a little bit of Italian blood in you. You don’t look Hispanic at all, you know that?” My dad laughed, “Yeah I hear that all the time but like my daughter says we’re like skittles we come in all colors of the rainbow.” The old man laughed at that but he had to ask the question anyway he couldn’t help himself. “You sure you’re not Guido or have some Italian in you?” My dad laughed, “Not a drop, pure Puerto Rican here” “My wife’s Puerto Rican she’s a little thing like your daughter there. God love those women they are something else aren’t they? I’ve been married for 56 years now and I wouldn’t trade my wife for nothing in the world. Though I gotta admit the minute she puts her fists on her hips and starts shaking her head I run out the house. I find something to do even if I don’t have anything to do!” he laughed. “Those women have a temper on them.”

As to illustrate his point his phone rang his wife was on the other line demanding to know where he was. “I’m talking to a friend here Lydia and when I’m done I’m going to go put gas in the car. His nodded his head and started to blush as his wife continued to berate him on the phone. “But honey I’m 76 years old who the hell is going to let me put my nozzle in their tank?” After a few seconds he hung up, grinned like a newlywed, and shrugged his shoulders. “My wife, she still gets jealous"

Labels: Love

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