Fancy Cheese

I’ve been traveling a lot again and works just plain ol’ busy. A couple regulatory advisors from KC were in town yesterday and they wanted to do dinner, with all my obligations, I declined. Later in the day, they modified their proposal limited to a brief happy hour as Chickie & Pete’s…that I could do, I’ll stop in and see the crew from KC, shake some hands and be out of there by 6PM, Jac will never even know I was there.

At around 5:30PM, I’m drinking a Miller Lite and picking at some Crab Fries when my cell rings. Uh oh! It’s Jaclyn. I pick up the phone and answer, “Hello?” Meanwhile, the bar sounds of shifting chairs, AC/DC, and hollering waitresses reverberates in the background. A long silent pause on the other end with the sounds of Chickie & Pete’s bouncing around echoing back from my phone into my ear, reassuring me that my location has been exposed. She asks, “Where are you?”

I had a feeling she would ask that.

Ultimately, it was communicated that RKDeem could have played this differently to achieve greater matrimonial harmony, but it was forgiven and I was given a list of grocery items to secure before I returned home. At Wegman’s, I decided to make things up to my wonderful wife. We have a cold bottle of champagne in the fridge, I can just pick up some fancy cheese and crackers and she’ll return to a state of bliss. I bypass the old standby cheeses and head for the counter with the built in cheese case with the extra special cheeses, I see a package that looks extra special, buy it, and look forward to winning over my lady’s affection.

When I return home with the requested groceries, I manage to keep the cheese a surprise as we try to get the kids to sleep. As Jac reads one last story to Dalia, I sneak downstairs and begin putting my little champagne and cheese tray together. As I open the fancy cheese, it fills the kitchen up with a vulgar potent smell, something like a dead Walleye on the banks of Lake Nockamixon, or a Taco Bell bathroom, my mind races to quickly reconcile the vile smell with the premium price, concluded that it needs to air out.

Jac comes downstairs into the kitchen, momentarily gags and asks what smells like stinky feet? I show her the fancy cheese (my token of amor) and explain it needs to air out a bit, but it will be excellent (it’s fancy). Dalia wanders downstairs, curious of the commotion, and I offer her a whiff, she starts to repetitively dry heave, over and over. Finally Jaclyn walks our girl out of the kitchen and gives her water to clear the olfactories.

In the spirit of romance, I suggested we watch Moneyball, I had read the book and really loved it (who wouldn’t love a movie about baseball statistics while eating fancy cheese?). She agreed and we snuggled on the couch, drinking champagne, nibbling on cheese (she stuck with cheddar), and finally relaxed with each other.

2 thoughts on “Fancy Cheese

  1. Hey Robert I like your story here. Kate made us a nice dinner a few nights ago. We had a “date night” and watched that same movie sans the stinky cheese. Good movie!


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