It was a hot day and I was glad that I had decided to go out to the beach, soak up the sun and do some “sightseeing.” I felt bad about ditching the guys for a day at the beach so I could check out some of the “local scenery” because we came to Hawaii on a golf trip so we could play two rounds of golf each day, every day for seven straight days. As good as this idea sounded in theory, realistically, once we got to Hawaii, how could I have possibly passed up on going to the beach for a day? I couldn’t! The sand was pristine, the water was crystal clear and the views were amazing and this is from a guy who doesn’t even like the beach.
I knew that once my wife found out about my day at the beach that I would be in some serious hot water for a while but until you have been to Hawaii and you have seen all of the skimpy bathing suits, you could never understand how worthwhile this day at the beach was for me. It was like a Mecca of toned and tanned bodies. I picked the best spot on the beach to set up my chair and relax. Off to my right was a group of women who kept rubbing sun tan lotion all over each other. They had been rubbing each other with the lotion constantly and although it seemed to me like they should have covered every part of their bodies by now, I wasn’t complaining. Maybe they really wanted to protect themselves against the harmful UV rays of the sun, who was I to judge them? It was this specific type of “sightseeing” that made skipping out on a day of golf with the guys absolutely worth it.
Besides, I was involved in a conversation with some women who were sitting to my left. We had ordered a few pitchers of Long Island Iced Teas while the three young women told me about their very lucrative careers as models. I must admit that I bought into the stereotype of models being dumb, but each of these very well proportioned women was up to date about the current state of affairs. We talked about politics, entertainment and a favorite topic of mine, the National Football League. I have to admit that I was very impressed with their knowledge of the NFL and more importantly, they all participated in a fantasy football league. They gave me some great information about certain players that will be helpful in my next fantasy football draft. This day was turning into everything I had hoped it would become. We were having a few drinks, we were having a few laughs and most importantly, I was making friends with three very attractive women on a beach in Hawaii.
But, wait a minute. Something was wrong. What was that pain?! Why was my leg hurting?! I dropped my Long Island Iced Tea and grabbed my leg.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!” I screamed as my entire body was literally levitated into the air. Upon landing on the ground again, I shot straight up into a sitting position, grabbed my legs, opened my eyes and tried to look around to see what had happened.
“What the heck is going on?!! Why is it so dark?!! Where’s the beach?!! Where’s my drink?!! Why does my damn leg hurt?!!”
“Sorry,” my wife said softly from the other side of the bed. “My feet were cold.”
“What?! You’re feet were cold?! That hurts.” My wife was notorious for getting very cold feet in the middle of the night. I refer to them as her Ice Clubs because it’s like having a large block of cold ice placed on your leg. They instantly affix themselves to your leg and it burns like the wind whipping across your face on an extremely cold night. She told me it was because of her circulation and since I have such warm legs, she liked to slide them between my legs in the middle of the night to warm up her frozen feet. I have told her time and time again that it was absolutely cruel and tonight was no exception. Why would anyone put their extremely cold feet on the bare legs of a sleeping person?
“Shhh. You’ll wake the kids.”
“Wake the kids?!” I whispered back a little abruptly. “The kids? What about me?! Did you forget that you just woke me up?!”
“I said I was sorry. My feet were cold.” I could tell by her tone of voice that she was a little irritated by my response. She was irritated at me? Ha! How was that possible? I was just sleeping comfortably in bed, dreaming about a golf vacation with my friends when she placed those Ice Clubs on my leg and abruptly woke me from a deep sleep. How was it possible that she was angry with me? I did nothing wrong.
“And that gives you the right to put those Ice Clubs between my legs?”
“You’re legs are warm.”
“Warm or not, it doesn’t make it right. I was sleeping over here!” I responded in an agitated voice as I rolled over and tried to find a comfortable spot in the bed. It just wasn’t right. God knows that if I put my cold feet on her warm legs in the middle of the night that the kids, the neighbors, and the people in the next town over would hear about it. And if I tried to shush her so that she didn’t wake the kids, I was sure that I would hear about how I had the nerve to ask her to be quiet when I had just woken her from a sound sleep. It just didn’t make sense to me how this was my fault for not understanding her point of view.
“Well, can I warm them up?” she asked with a little glint of ‘I love you and you know you would do anything for me’ in her voice as she slowly started to slide her ice clubs back between my legs.
Imagine being asleep in a nice warm bed. Your body temperature was nice and warm. You’re having a great dream and then, from out of the blue, someone you love put a large chunk of ice directly onto your skin. It would be a rude awakening but more importantly, it would hurt. I didn’t want to let her put those cold feet between my legs again because I wanted her to know that it wasn’t acceptable to continually do this to me. I was sleeping and it just wasn’t right for her to put her cold feet on my bare, warm legs. She was wrong and I wanted to teach her a lesson.
“Okaaaaaay,” I winced as she put her frozen feet between my legs again. It took a few minutes before the pain of her Ice Clubs on my legs subsided. I should have said, “No,” but I didn’t. It was almost like it was the vow that I was supposed to read between the lines as I recited them on my wedding day when the minister asked, “Do you promise to honor, cherish, love (meaning: allow her to put her Ice Clubs on your legs in the middle of the night as well as allow her to do many other crazy things without thinking twice about the temporary or long term discomfort you will be in because you love her), and obey.”
And I said, “I do.”
Boy, what was I thinking? If I had only known that I had just signed away all my rights to arguing about things like the placement of her Ice Clubs on my legs in the middle of the night, I might have thought twice about those vows. But I love this person and although I believe that my wife seems to derive some sort of enjoyment out of doing this to me over and over again, it was becoming a common winter ritual that we would go through very often in our lives.
I put my head back down on the pillow and I did everything I could to try and get back to that chair in Hawaii. But no matter how hard I tried to return to my island oasis, it just wasn’t happening. My subconscious mind wouldn’t let me return to that wonderful place on the beach where I was talking fantasy football with bikini laden models. And that’s when the realization hit me like a ton of bricks; she knew!
It all became crystal clear to me because this wasn’t just a winter problem, it happened all the time; summer, winter, spring and fall. She would place her cold feet upon my leg on the hottest nights of the year just as much as she would place those Ice Clubs on my legs on the coldest nights of the year. But most of the time, she would especially place those frozen feet on my legs on those nights when I was dreaming about some place off in the world that I was visiting in my subconscious mind without her.
I turned my head to confront her and like usual, she had already fallen back to sleep. Lying there in the night with her Ice Clubs firmly secure in a warm place between my legs, I didn’t have the heart to wake her up to inquire about my theory. As I drifted back to dreamland, the only place I could dream of was Siberia. And unfortunately for me, there weren’t any bikini clad fantasy football guru’s in Siberia.