Now, when your woman start actin' funny, and begin to run aroun', You better get you somebody, 'cause she's fittin' to put you down, Better let her go, man, just as quick as you can, Because that hoodoo girl is going to hoodoo the hoodoo man.
-- Lightnin' Slim
A funny thing happened on the way to Mojoseum today.
WAW is doing a sprint triathlon in Coastal Resort Town, where she's spending a couple days with the kids. She'd asked if I could come pick them up before the event -- which starts at the crack o' dawn -- even though it was right after the Great European Getaway and I'd surely be tired. But being the Friendy type, I said "of course."
But the travel has put the zap on my brain, and I thought today was tomorrow, and drove up to Coastal Resort Town to pick the chillun up. I knocked on the hotel room door early this a.m. and was greeted by a sleepy-headed WAW, still a'jammied, and two sleepy-headed kids who were very glad to see me.
"Whatareyoudoing?" led to "Oh, man, I'm all screwed up calendar-wise," and after a bit of chit-chat with Themselves -- who promptly went back to sleep -- I told WAW I'd be back in the (proper) morning tomorrow.
"Why don't you stay and come to breakfast?" she asked, while pulling her arms out of her robe and chivvying it down around her waist, so that her lady-lumps were on full display under her thin, sleeveless, jammie t-shirt.
Now mind you, it's eeeeeaaaaarrrrrllllly in the morning. She's still all muddle-headed and Themselves have already fallen back into the arms of Morpheus, sawing kid-sized lumber. So what, exactly, am I going to do for a couple hours? She's got D Herself in bed with her, S Himself has the other bed all to himself. I'm not going to climb in there with him, and I'm certainly not going to sit on the floor and wait for them to sleep a couple more hours.
WAW and I can't really have a conversation, there being just the sleeping chamber and the WC. So I say Thanks But No Thanks Got To Be Rollin' On.
Plus I'm p*ssed, because it's obvious that WAW's been rummaging around in my office in my absence and her presence, and among the rummagings she's taken her engagement ring out of the desk drawer where she threw it upon Moving Out. Now her engagement ring is neither here nor there to me, and I suppose she wants the Diamante to make some other piece of jewelry out of, but dam! That's cold-blooded, rustling a fellow's things around. Why didn't she just ask?
So I whipped out the Mojo, gave her my best smile, told her to enjoy the day with Themselves, and --- see ya, wouldn't wanta be ya.
Now that's pretty cruel, you might say. And I might agree. "Bing!" comes the text-message while I'm driving back down Coastal Highway: "Wish you could've stayed."
Yep. The Great European Getaway definitely put some Hoodoo on the Hoodoo Girl.
