Well, That Was A Bit of a Revelation.

My Darling Wife went to a friend's house for a play date for the children and conversation for the mothers. She called to let me know where she was going, and asked if I had a problem with the fact that the friend's husband would be at the house.

Now, just so you know, these people are down in my book as Good People. I am 99.999% not worried that she is going to end up raped, throat cut, in a ditch somewhere, by their hands. Still, she has had a Bad Experience so she sometimes has some anxiety at stepping out when I'm not with her.

I told her no, go ahead, and if anything Bad happens, I'll just go over there and kill 'em.

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Reflecting on that statement, I find it was a flippant half-joke, but there is a pretty good chance that it was also accurate.

As you might have thought, if you had read the end of this essay about me.

I had never put in much thought about a specific instance of the cold, calculated violence I mentioned in that post, but it came pretty readily to mind as I considered what could happen and what I could do in response. There is something to be said for letting the Justice Department have its go at a Goblin. There is very much indeed in favor of letting God have his own vengeance. But there is also something sleeping inside every macho. Do yourself a favor, and don't wake it up!


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In related news, I found out in the course of casual conversation last March that, in contrast to Eliot Spitzer's wife, mine is a genuine woman. You know, one whose husband stands a good chance of never being found once he is caught cheating on her.

Just sayin'.