This is a first. Since I knocked her up, our relationship has gone from physical-violence-free to one that now contains incidents of her elbowing me in the ribs real hard, her kicking me real hard on my left (or right, I forget which, though the bruise lasted for days …) thigh and her punching my upper arm so real hard I couldn’t lift that arm above the shoulder for an afternoon. She smashed a couple of my toes with a television that she just didn’t feel like carrying anymore. She smashed a couple different toes with the front door that she took out some kinda pregnant-lady rage on. She wanged me real good in the stomach with the ironing board even though I was the one who was ironing so I don’t know what she was mad about. But up until now, the face has been off limits. Up until now.

She just one-timed me in the face. Damn. That hurt.

She sure is in a surly mood, lately, when it comes to food. She does not play around. Nor does she much cotton to the playing around of others. (When she first craved bananas in the morning, I said to her ‘I’ll give you a banana in the morning. If you know what I mean.’ She told me ‘Stop being a wise-ass. Where’s the bananas.’)

Every morning, she’s gotta have the same breakfast. A cereal which is either oatmeal or bran, a small thing of V-8, other small nibbles I’m forgetting right now (cause I’m dazed cause she just went whoopsy-daisy to my grill, but it’s usually like a handful of berries or some shit) and a banana with peanut butter on it. It’s a well-rounded breakfast and a decent nutritional start to her day. (Then she heads to the office where she willy-nilly eats her ass off cause all her coworkers bring her healthy snacks cause they’re all scared shitless of her, but I could care less cause she’s outta my hair at that point.)

Just now, all I did was suggest peanut butter also goes good with apples, which we have handy, after she … discerned … I had failed to buy bananas yesterday. I was standing behind her, sneaking up for one of those neck-shoulder kisses she likes so much and a little pat on her huge belly. She wheeled around and in the act of wheeling, cold-cocked me almost. Right in the old trap. Stopped me dead in my tracks. It was one of those moments where you were gonna say something, then something else happens, and it makes you forget what you were gonna say. I was just gonna say something. Something after peanut butter and apples. But now, for the life of me, I have no idea what I was gonna say. Yeah, I really shoulda delivered her some bananas when I promised her it was bananas I would deliver.

Hey, hey, I freely admit I didn’t do what I told her I’d do. I definitely told her I’d get bananas on the way home last night, and she definitely impressed upon me the importance of me bringing home bananas so she could have bananas for breakfast like she always does, and I definitely told her ‘yeah, yeah, I’m not an idiot, I won’t forget, I’m not an idiot,’ and I definitely proceeded to forget. But punching? Wouldn’t a good yelling have done the trick? A scolding? A reaming?

I spose what I’m in for next is a good bout of blaming the victim. It’ll be my fault for putting my face in the way of where her fist was going. Or I shouldn’t have gotten up at seven in the morning when I usually don’t get up til seven-fifteen. Or she never liked the neck-shoulder kisses, she only pretended to for my benefit but she can’t pretend anymore and the only way to get it through my thick skull is to punch my thick skull.

Only it wasn’t a punch as much as it was a forearm shiver, only it wasn’t her forearm as much as it was her fist and only it wasn’t my skull as much as it was the right side of the front of my mouth. Short and sweet. Right to the right of my mouth. Any other place on my body, maybe I’d believe it was unintentional. Now that I think about it, she’s pummeled my balls a few times, which she claimed to be accidental, and once my urge to yak all over the place went away, I believed her. But my face? My face?

No way it’s unintentional if it’s to my face. My face’s no accident. She’s gotta reach up to get my face. She’s like seven inches shorter than me. It’s not exactly like my face is the first thing that her fist would …

Am I bleeding? Jesus. Did she give me a bloody lip? Christ.

I think I am bleeding, cause I taste something in my mouth. What I taste is fear, of course. Fear of the look in her eyes. (I wish you could see the look in her eyes. Boy, she sure is ticked.) But on top of the fear, there’s that metallic blood taste. Great. Blood in my mouth. And if there’s any on one of her knuckles and she licks the knuckle with blood on it, then she’ll develop a taste for blood and then I really will be done for. Wow. I’m scared. She sure is strong. That center of gravity she’s got now sure is powerful. You combine that with her now hair-trigger temper and she’s a force to be reckoned with.

I’m gonna ask Jimmy if he knows any good divorce lawyers, cause the only divorce lawyers I know are from television ads, which means they ain’t any good. No. I can’t get a divorce. (That’s just the pain and fear talking.) No divorce. We’ve only been married two-plus months. It’s lame to give up on a marriage after only two-plus months. We should at least stick it out til our paper anniversary.

You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna act like it really really really hurt. Gonna flex my jaw, you know, open wide then close my mouth a few times, so she knows she shouldn’t have done that. That’s what I’m gonna do. Here. This’ll teach her. Open wide … close. Open wide … close. Open wide but wince so she knows it’s a little difficult … and close. Now. There. That oughtta …

Wow. Of all the … she looked then looked away, just going on with the rest of her breakfast. She’s unmoved by how much pain I faked I was in. She’s not in the least remorseful. She shows no remorse whatsoever. (And she’s cutting up an apple. After all this. Cutting up an apple and now she’s spinning the lazy susan for the jar of peanut butter. Ain’t that a fine how do you do.)

Next time Wife-asaurus wonders why she’s Wife-asaurus, I’m gonna remind her of this morning, when she asked for a banana with peanut butter but didn’t get it so decided to wail on me so hard my head snapped back, my eyes went wide open and my mouth made a perfect little O of shock. Cause she’s a Wife-asaurus, all right. Only a Wife-asaurus would react that way.