CRACKLING THORNS

                "You missed a spot." Ted was in a pestering mood.

                Scrubbing stubborn spaghetti sauce off pot in kitchen sink, the lovely Tess puffed at stray strand of sandy blond hair dangling over right eye, the green one. "Ted, my patience is running thin."

                "Tess, since when did you become a doctor at a weight loss clinic?"

                "What?"

                "You said your patients are running thin!" Ted cackled, licked finger, touched finger to hip, "Pssst! Am I hot or what?"

                Tess paused scrubber to pot, warned, "Ted, do not thorns cast into a fire crackle and spit? Do you forget I possess heterochromia iridumic eyes, and I am not afraid to use them?" Tess slowly turned head to the left, her blue eye rounded corner, almost came to bear upon the pesty Ted.

                "Not the blue eye, anything but that!" Ted attempted retreat.

                Tess snagged him by the belt above butt.  She reached around with dish water dripping hand, found his chin.

                "Nooooo..."Ted howled.

                By the chin, Tess slowly turned Ted face toward her heterochromia iridumic sea of blue. "Gaze into the blue eye." She commanded.

                "No, no..." Ted squinched eyes tight.

                "Open your eyes," Tess ordered.

                "Green eye, not blue eye! Give me tha-tha-the green eye, paaalezzze!"

                "And why do you fear the blue-blue eye, Teddy?"

                "I don't know." Ted squirmed.

                "Cause the blue eye make you do, what the blue eye make you do, do, do." Tess was enjoying this way too much.

                "Noooo! No dooo, no dooo!" Ted sang like a rat in a trap.

                "Open them eyes," Tess voice faded from bitter to sweet.

                "No, it's a trick."

                "No trick." Tess licked his cheek.

                "Promise," Ted wavered unsure, "Promise the green eye."

                "Promise," sultry voice invited, her tight hold on his chin morphed to caress. Tess felt his tense body relax.

                Ted unsquinched peepers, a muffled, "Arrrrrgg," escaped his lips, as storm tossed waves of blue eye sea tugged him under.

                The kiss was sweet as summer wine and twice as intoxicating. Ted knees near buckled.

                Her lips departed his, traveled long his jaw, up to ear, "What were you saying about washing the dishes?"

                "I don't remember."

                "What?"

                "I don't know."

                "You were declaring that you desire with all your heart to scrub that spaghetti pot for me."

                "I didn't."

                "You said," Tess soft lips and warm ocean breeze breath traveled trail to pulse point tween Ted throat and neck, "you said doing dishes for me is purest joy." Her words vibrated long that tender spot of neck.

                "No, no way did..."

                Lush lips smooched that spot tween throat and neck, set it a tingle.

                "O!" Ted eye lashes beat a flutter.

                Tess raised face, raised the blue eye to bear, to burrow into his mind, sink well to Ted heart, draw forth the joys of unconditional surrender.

                Ted wrapped her in his arms.

                Tess back rested gainst sink counter. She slipped under hubby arm, slid in behind him, by his too much spaghetti inflated love handles, steered him to kitchen sink.  And as Ted began lovingly washing that saucy spaghetti pot, Tess heterochromia iridumic eyes, both the green one and the blue one, pulsed love too.

                And Tess soft lips brushed Ted ear, half chuckled, half purred, "You missed a spot."

EPILOGUE: Why, I say why do we do it? No way to win, and we still do it. Wives simply do not most of the time view a husbands spontaneous aggravation as fun... little boy cute maybe, but not the best of fun. Perhaps we should not dip from the well of juvenile pesterization too often, but just admit we need attention. Yet, even when our kidding fails, I find a kiss to the nape of her neck reaps wifely goosebumps and forgotten vexation.  Oh, and we might every now and then try thoughtfully washing that sauce laden spaghetti pot for our loved one, and thereby avoid the dreaded blue eye of thin patience to begin with.

Ecclesiastes chapter 7 verses 6, 8&9 KJV: 6)For 'as the crackling of thorns under a pot', so is the laughter of a fool: this also is vanity. 8)Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit. 9)Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bossom of fools.

Crackling Thorns: Like a fools laughter, thorns crackle and burn too quickly to aid the pot in cooking. Patient finishing is better than prideful beginning.

Mark 10:9 KJV, What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.