• Operation Purse Raid Requires a Carefully Planned Attack

    by Donald K. Sanders

    Sometimes I use my military training for monitory gain; I call it “Operation Purse Raid.” I can do this because my wife likes to think. It’s like she is in a trance — oblivious to the rest of the world. However, she’s still aware of what’s going on around her and that’s what is scary.

    For instance, she’ll be thinking away sometimes and I’ll watch her closely for about nine hours just to make sure that she’s deep in thought. I have to be as sly as a cat. For the first eight hours or so, I won’t make a single move. I’m like a statue; not a twitch, sniffle or blink.

    After eight hours, she is deep in a trance. She appears to be watching TV, but I know for sure that she’s thinking. This is where the tricky part begins because it is time for me to make my first move. OK, lets call it 8+01. At 8+01 exactly, I’ll move the little finger of my hand that is away from her and is hidden by my leg or my big butt. At 8+02 I’ll look over at her without moving my head — just my eyeballs to look for any reaction.

    When she’s thinking, Therese likes to sit on the little couch. I always have to sit on the big couch. I don’t know why this is so, but someday I plan to think about that.

    Sometimes she sits on the little couch just because she knows that I want to sit on the little couch. How cruel is that? She’s all smug and thinks she’s cool. She sits there like a soldier riding a horse on a cavalry charge. Her back is perfectly straight and erect. Her attention is somewhere that I know I’ve never been but she seems to be looking straight ahead at some little bitty teeny weenie point, way off in the distance.

    Believe it or not, by this point in time I have put a lot of work into this operation. Without her even knowing, I have inserted a girly-man, love story into the DVD player and it is now about to begin. The one that works best seems to be “The Quiet Man” starring John Wayne. This film works every time. By 8+15 she is really gone and she won’t be back for about an hour and a half. At 8+20 I figure it’s time for the final test to begin so that I can tell just exactly how far gone she really is.

    At exactly 8+21 I raise both of my arms in a stretching movement and act like I’m yawning. I then will begin to mumble something; it doesn’t matter what. By 8+30 my mumbling has increased in volume until it reaches the decimal that is at the brink of her awareness. Her reaction at this point in time is a primary indicator whether I can continue to the next step in Operation Purse Raid.

    There are two things that I’m looking for at this point. First is a wave of her hand like she is chasing away a fly or a bumblebee. Just the wave of her hand. Nothing else moves and she only does it once. When this occurs I know I’m almost home. I’m almost feeling as brilliant as I really am.

    I have to sit and wait for the second thing because it sometimes takes a few minutes to annoy her without breaking the trance. This part takes some planning but I’m pretty smart because I’ve seen this film 432 times and I know exactly when something sad is going to happen. At just the right moment when I know she’s totally engrossed I’ll say something like, “Honey, would you like something from the kitchen”?

    If she ignores me and reaches for a napkin I know that this is my opportunity to go for it. I can, at this point, stand up, walk around that Godforsaken, knee-knocking coffee table, and start for the kitchen. I’ll call this point 8+45. If I time it just right, when I walk in front of her she’ll lean over to see the TV while I walk by. Here is the critical point of the whole operation. If I screw this up I’m done, kaput, fini.

    At the exact moment that she leans over to see around me (I’ll call it 8+47) I give her purse that’s sitting on the floor beside her a slight kick. If done properly she will not be aware of anything except what she’s thinking about. I then casually continue into the kitchen and rumble a few dishes around, open and close the fridge a number of times, while whistling Dixie the entire time.

    After throwing some meat on the floor for the dog as a noise diversion I can now successfully low-crawl behind the little couch, get some money out of her purse and escape to the hardware store where I can buy something I don’t need in complete freedom.

    Ah, isn’t America great!

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