“Did anyone check the skunk trap?” my wife, Lenie, asked.
“Oh no! Darn, we forgot!” I said.
“I’ll go check it,” she said.
“It’s past midnight,” I protested. “It will keep until the morning.”
She put on some boots and her coat and headed out the front door.
“The trap’s off the back deck,” I said. “Go out through the slider.”
“No, no. I’ll go this way.”
“Why?” I asked incredulously. We have a big long house and she was going out into the moonless night by the front door, so she’d have to walk completely around the house, on an uneven path, through bushes and trees, to get to the skunk trap under our back deck. And it was raining! Women have always puzzled me in the way they do things. At least she took my powerful Nakita flashlight, the one that works off my drill motor battery. Its beam is like a car headlight.
“If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll come looking for you!” I said jokingly. She laughed and walked off into the darkness, the Nakita beam preceding her.
After only a couple of minutes I walked into my study at the back of the house and opened the window.
“You okay honey?” I yelled. No answer. So I walked to the back deck, where the skunk trap was.
“You okay!” I yelled. No answer. So I went to the front door and yelled, “Are you okay?” No answer.
So I went to our side deck and flipped on the flood lights, opened the French Doors and yelled loudly, “Are you okay?” No answer!
So I quickly ran around the house turning on all the floodlights, then went outside and headed toward the barn, just in case she went there looking for the skunk eating the cat food. I met her where the barn meets the house. She had just gotten up off the ground.
“Ohhh!” she said with a look of pain on her face. “Do my knees hurt!” “I tripped over something between the barn and the house. I was laying there for quite a while.”
I felt like lecturing her, but I said nothing. Experience with a stubborn wife is a great teacher.
An examination in the house revealed a deep cut on one knee, a bruise on the other, and a sore palm on one hand. My Nakita flashlight was broken. While she bandaged herself up, I poured her a Hot Toddy. She sat on the couch and sipped it. Her knee obviously hurt like hell.
I did not recount my remonstrances about her checking the skunk trap in the dark, from the wrong end of the house, and she was good natured about her injury, even laughing about how much it hurt.
The skunk is still free to steal our chicken eggs and stink up the house. For tonight, it was Skunk 1, Lenie 0. But Lenie won’t give up. She’ll do it her way, but she’ll get it done. That skunk is toast.