When Cossack just wants to blob after a hard day's work he is a bit undiscriminating when it comes to what he blobs in front of. Basically, he will watch any old crap on TV and I get bombarded with shoot 'em ups and car-chases and sirens while trying to pour my entire heart, soul and guts into a blog here in the office. I tell you, it contaminates my train of thought something dreadful.
Now, so as not to be unfair to Coss, let me make it quite clear that, unlike some social deviants, he can differentiate between TV and real life. He is not a serial killer or weirdo but I truly believe he would intervene if I were being attacked. He would leap on my assailant after only about two minutes hesitation and chop his head off with a shiny sabre, thereby making him a monogamous killer only. That is not nearly as bad as a serial one.
However my spouse can be ungrateful as well as heroic. Take this morning for instance when he searched forever for his vitamins before finally accosting moi as to their whereabouts.
"Bernadette, WHERE ARE MY VITAMINS?".
"Oh, your vitamins. Coss, I've simplified things in the medicine cabinet by putting everything in alphabetical order. So your vitamins will be near the back behind the Ural effervescent sachets and Vermox worm tablets but in front of the Zovirax tube. I reckon I'd make someone an incredible P.A with my organisational skills"
"Yeah, you may as well get paid for what you are good at", Cossack muttered and then made a joke that he laughed at all by himself about me being an expert 'Pain in the Ass".
That's when I grabbed him by the ear and escorted him to the sofa.
"When couples have been married as long as us, Coss, they need to bond more so sit down."
His eyes lit up with anticipation of who-knows-what until I snuggle-buggled up to him and started up the first of a whole series of 'The Waltons' I had hired from the library. Believe it or not, Coss had never watched a single episode in his entire life.
No "Goodnaht John-Boy" and "Goodnaht Mary-Ellen" featured in Cossack's childhood memory-bank. I knew there and then that this serious deprivation was responsible for his corrupted head and he needed urgent re-programming. The Waltons, that large and loving and poor but rich family who resided so blissfully beneath Walton Mountain were exactly what the doctor ordered.
Coss stared at the screen in disbelief at first when a raggedy bunch of kids in denim dungarees ran around the screen but he and I watched three episodes without interruption, I kid you not.
When Elizabeth's sick racoon died he wiped away a tear which I think was genuine or it may have been a result of me twisting his head so hard in order to eyeball him and check whether or not he deserved an 'Emotional Warrant Of Fitness'.
When Grandpa got merry on the Baldwin sisters' "Recipe", Coss laughed his head nearly right off and when Mary-Ellen ran away I noticed a little paternal concern contort his features just as if it were his own daughter chasing a sweet-singing minstrel into the sunset.
Honestly, all the appropriate emotions were forth-coming from my Coss so right now I am recording the miracle in this very Blog and thinking smugly how I personally had transformed him into a man who values all that is wholesome and beautiful..
"Good naht, Coss- Boy!", I called affectionately from around the office door to the sofa.
'Good naht, Bernadette", he replied affectionately from the sofa to the office.
But then I saw him grab the remote and pollute the precious moment with, "Well, raht now I maht just watch me a bit of good ol' violence".
And the living-room was assaulted with a blood-curdling scream with enough decibels to raise the corpse of Grandpa Walton.
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