2008 Woodie Awards
Blood, Sweat, Tears, Turtles
Toria Savey
Issue date: 3/25/08 Section: Opinion
"You do realize you have a reptile in your house then?"
Ok, in all fairness, it's not so much a reptile as a turtle. Before you get all taxonomy and point out that a turtle is a reptile, it's not really. It's a turtle. Reptiles freak you out if they escape from their cages, and they do things like slither, and make your grandmother faint. A turtle just kind of galumphs along.
But wait. There's more. This turtle is much more than a turtle. This, my friends, is war with a shell. Well, more like a passive aggressive battle of wits between my significant other and myself.
You see, this is relationship rehab. Recovering addicts, depending on the program, are taught to ease back into responsibility. Try a plant. Then a fish. Then a dog or a cat. Then finally, you can move onto people. I didn't go to rehab, but I've been in a butt-load of unhealthy relationships. I did things a little backwards though. I got the guy first. Then followed it up with no plant, and now a turtle. So really, I think we're both just making sure we can keep the turtle alive before we make a bigger commitment.
I mean, would you marry a turtle killer? No, I wouldn't either.
So, here's a little view of how my morning went. Get up too early. Check and make sure turtle's still alive. He's still alive. (Sidenote: we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet. People have been asking me how you check the sex. Answer: Play soft music and buy it flowers and candy until it rolls over for you.) Text significant other to say that I'm worried Mr. Turtle doesn't have enough room to swim and he seems unhappy. Significant other's response: "He'll be fine, babe. Take him on a field trip to the bathtub." Um, my boyfriend's ex-roommate used to go shopping. At bars. For men. Every night. I'm way more worried about the bath tub giving Mr. Turtle the clap than I am about catching salmonella from him. I'm pretty sure if the turtle catches syphilis on my watch, I lose the battle.
So, perhaps you too are in a serious relationship but afraid to take that next step. But I bet if you knew the next step could eat goldfish, like mine can, you'd be all over that and walking down the aisle (or having a commitment ceremony in the Bahamas…or being hitched at a drive-thru chapel in Vegas by Elvis) in no time.
Ok, in all fairness, it's not so much a reptile as a turtle. Before you get all taxonomy and point out that a turtle is a reptile, it's not really. It's a turtle. Reptiles freak you out if they escape from their cages, and they do things like slither, and make your grandmother faint. A turtle just kind of galumphs along.
But wait. There's more. This turtle is much more than a turtle. This, my friends, is war with a shell. Well, more like a passive aggressive battle of wits between my significant other and myself.
You see, this is relationship rehab. Recovering addicts, depending on the program, are taught to ease back into responsibility. Try a plant. Then a fish. Then a dog or a cat. Then finally, you can move onto people. I didn't go to rehab, but I've been in a butt-load of unhealthy relationships. I did things a little backwards though. I got the guy first. Then followed it up with no plant, and now a turtle. So really, I think we're both just making sure we can keep the turtle alive before we make a bigger commitment.
I mean, would you marry a turtle killer? No, I wouldn't either.
So, here's a little view of how my morning went. Get up too early. Check and make sure turtle's still alive. He's still alive. (Sidenote: we don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet. People have been asking me how you check the sex. Answer: Play soft music and buy it flowers and candy until it rolls over for you.) Text significant other to say that I'm worried Mr. Turtle doesn't have enough room to swim and he seems unhappy. Significant other's response: "He'll be fine, babe. Take him on a field trip to the bathtub." Um, my boyfriend's ex-roommate used to go shopping. At bars. For men. Every night. I'm way more worried about the bath tub giving Mr. Turtle the clap than I am about catching salmonella from him. I'm pretty sure if the turtle catches syphilis on my watch, I lose the battle.
So, perhaps you too are in a serious relationship but afraid to take that next step. But I bet if you knew the next step could eat goldfish, like mine can, you'd be all over that and walking down the aisle (or having a commitment ceremony in the Bahamas…or being hitched at a drive-thru chapel in Vegas by Elvis) in no time.
Viewing Comments 1 - 1 of 1
JT$
posted 3/24/08 @ 9:40 PM PST
I have three healthy plants and two rad cats. I want to move on to a person but she isn't feeling it. Maybe I should just get a turtle and call it a day? I hope your turtle survives. (Continued…)
Post a Comment