The Gordian Knot

“Hi sweetie, I picked up that cheap bottle of wine you asked for.”

“Thank you, now I need another favor, untie this knot for me so I can wear it.”

“For Christ’s sake honey, why do you throw these fine little chains in your jewelry box? All they do is create a Gordian knot that you always expect me to unravel.”

“And you always do.”

“Crap! There’s 3 chains here, I’ll be doing good to get one out without breaking it. When do you plan to leave?”

“In 2 hours.”

“I may get lucky. Where are those long, glass headed pins I use?”

“In the sewing basket like always.”

“Like always. Yes, dear.”

“Don’t yes dear me, you always get it done. You’re the engineer.”

“I design computers, not knots.”

“I know you’ll get it done, like always.”

“I’m getting tired of like always. I made those 2 hanging racks for you to use for these, not those big, chunky beaded things you wear. They don’t tangle so throw them in the jewelry box instead.”

“But I like the way they look hanging there . . . and thank you for making them.”

“I’ll do another and . . . there, I got one.”

“I knew you could do it.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“You’ll get it. I need that gold one for the sapphire pendant you got me. Julia will be green with envy. Again.”

“You don’t even like Julia, why do you bother?”

“Because she thinks she’s better than everyone else and it pisses me off. I want to rub her nose in it. She’ll never have a piece like that. And I like her reaction when I give her cheap wine.”

“You are one piece of work.”

“You love it.”

There, I got them.”

“I knew you would. I love you.”

“Yes dear.”