Sneaky wears out

Ever wonder why some of us are superb at being sneaky while others try but their I-am-being-sneaky vibe spills off them like oil from the Exon? Is it practice or is it a genetic mutation built right into the molecules?

Whatever the reason—I am queen of all things sneaky in our abode. My coolness in the heat of the hunt has always been so good I could be sitting on a pound of unwrapped chocolate and my icy demeanor would prevent it from melting into my nether regions. Hiding stuff from Randy has always been simple—put whatever it is on any open surface, tell him I’ve hidden something, and if he can find it he can own it, then wait while he makes himself crazy, hunting in all the wrong places. Once he’s worn himself out and retired to his chair for a short snooze, I move the object to a spot he’s already checked.

Randy, bless him, wears his ignore me I’m sneaking air like a halo. I give him credit for all his efforts but snicker, because no matter how calm he tries to appear, my radar picks up on his ‘gotta’ get it hid’ vibe as soon as he walks in the door. I’ll smirk, let him sweat through the wrapping process, wait till he thinks he’s hidden it then zero in on it like its giving off a scent.

If I can’t see package info through the wrapper (hey – it is paper thin) I’ll wait until he’s left the building before I slip into super sleuth mode. A hands-on, four-way fondle, followed by a gentle shimmy shimmy shake while my finely honed ear canal digests the rustles, and it might as well be sitting naked on a counter.

But, with age comes wisdom, sad to say. I find the thrill of the hunt no longer captivates me in the same way. When I see him in skulk mode, I smile and walk away, pleased that after all these years he still tries to outwit me. Love knows no bounds! I’m honored he still wants to celebrate occasions with me. Those facts alone are worth more than all the chocolate bars Hersey produces.

Besides, even if I do sneak a peak—chances are I’ll forget before long….

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