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by Danny Mac

What Is Half the Bed?

Hello everyone,

My wife has put up with me for twenty-eight years. I do my thing and she does hers. We share chores with me doing some and her doing other jobs. We don’t share desserts but do share a bed. She claims we share 50/50 but her half looks much larger than my half. Generally, I get twenty, maybe twenty-four inches to her forty inches and the dog has to use my half of the bed when she becomes cold at night.

There is an internet store selling bedsheets with a line defining the bed into hers and his. However, the line always seems to designate two-thirds of the bed to her and one-third to him. I excel at math and can determine mathematically the ratio between hers and his, but this doesn’t seem to matter when it comes to portions of the bed. So, the question remains, what I am missing in my calculations in determining “What Is Half the Bed?” I need answers to understand.

Did I mention my dog is a Karen? Our discovery this morning is our resident Karen makes a lousy model. My wife tries to get the right picture of Ginger for a craft she is preparing to sell. She wants the right angle, setting, and mood for the headshot. However, there is no cooperation without a bribe and in this case, it means a cookie. (I do what I am told because of 28 years of conditioning)

That being said, a cookie gains her participation but it comes with exuberant emotion and entitlement. We sit her facing the light from the window glowing on her to remove unnecessary shadows. This last for a whole two seconds before she jumps up wanting her reward. We try several more times breaking the cookie into small pieces to reward her to do our bidding.

A Karen has a strong will and is easily distracted by her own wants. In the end, we take about thirty shots trying to get one where she smiles for the camera. Her disdain for not getting what she want when she wants it comes through clearly in each shot and none appeal to my wife.

After I return to writing this morning’s blog, manager mom tries again using one of her toys. She obtains the perfect shot where Ginger smiles for the camera. The picture takes Karen time to complete.

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God bless,

Danny Mac

Disney Princesses v Marvel image by Danny Mac

Hello everyone,

This is a story for the fathers of daughters, please share with them although moms will also find humor in it.

I had a daddy’s little girl. As an infant, I curled her up in my arms during her worst moments and she became peaceful. It drove mom crazy to see how she calmed down instantly. I read to her every night before bedtime starting early on. Her favorite was the Disney Princesses books my mother bought her. It was not enough to just read to her and I made up voices to go along with the story.

Around five years old, I mentioned Ariel sleeping until the prince kissed her back to life. “No, dad that was Aurora, not Ariel,” came at me with authority and indignation. This comment proceeded with a five-minute lecture on the differences between the two. Only after satisfying her concern over the lack of my knowledge of Disney Princesses did she relent and allowed me to continue with my day.

Fast forward to my thirteen-year-old and not my little girl anymore as we watched a Marvel movie together. This movie introduced several other characters into the plot with another faux pa by me going into a commercial break. “Is that Poison Ivy?”

With an extended eye roll, “Poison Ivy is DC. (Duh, a two-year-old knows that) That is Natasha Romanoff. Don’t you know anything?” Luckily the commercial break was only three minutes long or she would still be lecturing me to this day. Apparently, DC and Marvel may not interchange at any time. Her brief sermon on the devastating effects of combining them compared to a fire and brimstone preacher on the end of the world.

Did I mention my dog is a Karen? For the past three days, Ohio shivered through near-freezing temperatures. The previous three days we enjoyed eighty-degree weather. (28 to 0 for my metric friends) During the warmer nights, I opened the window to allow fresh air into the room for sleeping. Sleep came blissfully as the cool spring air wafted over the room and all was right with the world.

Until about twelve-thirty in the very early morning. Ginger, our ever-watchful Karen starts with a quick “Arf,” in her sleep. Several more proceeding “Arfs,” as she wakes from her slumber. I think what is she yapping about when I hear the call from the coyotes off in the distance and coming closer.

The whole of the house awakes to her singing the song of her people out the window at the coyotes. “Arrrrrooooorrrrooo” streams from her mouth only stopping for another deep inhale of air. It culminates in me slamming the window shut and yelling at her to go back to bed.

She lays down for almost thirty seconds and then decides it time to go out. Mom hollers out, “No go back to sleep.” Ginger replies with the nastiest and foulest of gas attack she could muster. Our resident Karen gets her way when mom lets her out.

Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com

God bless,

Danny Mac

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