Nail Polish

Partially inspired by a Facebook Meme.

“I just don’t know why you couldn’t wait until my nails were dry to tell me about your affair?” I snapped at my husband. The shameful look on his face would have been enough to melt another woman’s heart but not mine. I was annoyed that he had confessed his indiscretion right after I painted my nails Red, White, and Blue in honor of the upcoming holiday. It was as if he had no respect for beauty. “I guess it could have been worse, you could have eaten my rocky road ice cream. Still though, I can’t slap you properly right now, so I have to think of another punishment.”

The gun caught my eye and I briefly wondered if I picked it up what would happen to the polish on my nails. There was no way that I was going to ruin the way I looked for this man, it was bad enough that he thought my hair was too big. Apparently the man I had married thought that hair lying flat against one’s head was more attractive than someone who curled and hair sprayed her hair within an inch of its life. Ever since I married him I had shrunk 7 inches and the hair product industry had suffered greatly.

I owed it to the American economy, to myself, and all of the other wives whose husbands cheated on them with the checkout girl at the grocery store. No wonder why he always went to the grocery store. Here I had thought that it was because of the store sales. Well now he wouldn’t be buying his whore cheap soda on my credit card, and maybe just maybe he wouldn’t cheat on me again.

“Listen honey, I love you. It was a three time thing. She did things that you didn’t want to do with me. Things that a man really likes, some would argue that he needs,” The words coming out of his mouth made me want to smack him even more. With my eyes closed, I silently counted to 10, I didn’t want to do anything rash. “Think about it. I kinda solved problems for us, the only thing that I did wrong was sleep with someone else. Can’t you respect that I only did it for you? For us?”

Why did always defend their infidelities with an excuse like ‘I did it for you’? There was no way I remember ever saying to him that I thought it would be swell if he went and slept with an underage whore. That might be a bit harsh, she was at least 20 or so. It was hard to tell with some of these women nowadays. With their flat hair and botoxed faces, guessing an age was as useless as trying to get a man to take out the trash on Sunday night.

“Sweetheart, say something. Anything. Let me know that there is hope for our marriage. That we aren’t over,” The pleading tone in his voice made me really want to hurt him. Emotionally, physically, any way really. I wanted to hurt him in every way that I possible could. “I’ll do anything. Anything. Well almost anything. I mean there are limits you know. Not many though, I owe you big time. I’ll go buy you that American Flag that you’ve been wanting. The one with 50 stars instead of 48, even though I don’t think Michigan and Ohio are really part of the United States.”

I had reached my breaking point. My idiotic husband had the theory that the two Midwest states were part of Canada. It must have been something that he talked about with that dumb blond that he had become so fond of. The gun called to me, it was speaking to me. ‘Kill him’. The thing was I didn’t want him dead, that wouldn’t do me any good.
Carefully I picked it up, it felt heavy in my hands. The nail polish didn’t seem to be messed up, which was a good thing. If even one drop had been smudged I would have aimed at his heart and not looked back. He lucked out, and I trained the barrel towards his groin. One shot was all it took. His hands covered his package and he was down on the ground crying like a little baby.

“You know this hasn’t been a picnic for me either. My husband just told me that the bagger at the grocery store has been slathering his noodle.” I set the gun down and was thankful that the nail polish hadn’t been ruined. There might be hope for the day yet. A small smile played on my lips, “By the way, I’ve been sleeping with your brother. He likes to eat more than just turkey on Thanksgiving, if you catch my drift.”

He muttered something I couldn’t hear. I turned to see a woman sitting in the chair, watching us intently. When he finally looked up at me, he puckered his lips and blew me a kiss. An indication that all was forgiven. I hadn’t taken our little game too far this time. “The brother thing was a nice touch. But I really wish you didn’t feel the need to shoot me in the junk everytime I try to seduce you.”

“You could have waited until after my nails dried to start this,” I walked over to him and kissed him on the lips. He stood up, and dropped his trousers. When we first started this game we had found a pair of underwear that mostly protected his crown jewels, though he still felt a little pain because the bullet pushed the metallic underroos in just a little too far. “One of these days you’ll learn to let me finish my beauty regiment before you get frisky.”