“No,” my wife yelled back.
“I don’t see any.”
“Are you looking in the pantry on the second shelf?”
“Did you move the things in front and look behind them?”
“Do I have to come in there?”
“No, I’m just saying we are out of crackers.”
Up to that point, it is a scene that could play out in any household anywhere. But this is our house – and in our house things get weird.
My wife came into the kitchen.
She did not do this out of sympathy for me, mind you. She only wanted to prove her point: that we are not out of crackers. Opening the pantry door, she reached into the second shelf and pulled out a big box of Saltine crackers.
There is only one way to explain this. She had accessed a portal into the space-time continuum.
In my universe there were no crackers on the second shelf nor any other shelf and now there were. I once watched a Twilight Zone episode that went something like this and it did not end well for the husband. He was cooked and served with crackers.
In our house, my wife controls the space-time continuum and she uses it to maximum advantage. If I am running late, she speeds time up. If she is running late, she slows it down. If we get into an argument over something trivial, she shuffles through space and time until she finds an alternate reality where she is always right. If I insist I already did a chore that she asked me to do…. guess what happens?
But it is not a perfect system.
Occasionally, when we are rushing on our way somewhere, she will stop halfway to the garage and look puzzled.
“Where are my keys?” she will ask.
“In your purse,” I will say.
“They are not there.”
She will then check the key hook in the entryway. She will rummage through all the stuff on the kitchen counter. She will search the living room end tables. She will hunt in the bedroom and finally out of desperation, she will look once more in her purse.
That is when she will give me this strange other-worldly look – as if I controlled space and time.