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Time To Start Digging Out Of This Mess

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By Steve Otto

The Tampa Tribune

Published: September 17, 2008

Something was wrong. It was too quiet.

I rolled over slightly in bed so I could make out the green digital numbers on the TV clock. It read 3:15 in the morning. I rolled a little more and saw the empty space next to me. The Frau wasn't there. That happens a lot during the school year, especially after she's spent half the night grading tests and the requisite 10 minutes hitting her head against the wall wondering what went wrong.

I got up, figuring she would be out in the family room watching a "Murder She Wrote" rerun.

Besides, it would be a good chance to stick that $10 under the mattress. Now that our savings have disappeared, I figured it was time to start over with something a little more secure.

I went out to the family room but she wasn't there. She wasn't in the kitchen or anywhere else in the house. Just for the heck of it I peered out front but the car was still there. She wouldn't have left for any length of time anyhow without taking Bud the cat, who was standing at the kitchen door figuring it was time for breakfast.

Then I noticed Tennessee the dog over by the back door. I peered out a window and was sure I saw a light bouncing around over near the garage. I cracked open the door and sent the dog out to check.

The Prowler
"Go away!" I heard her say to the dog. I went out and found her on her knees near the azalea bushes, where she was digging a large hole.

"What are you doing?" I asked. She's not much for working out in the same yard where lizards and other critters live. She says she was once a Girl Scout and camped in the wilderness but I think the closest she has been to the wild was that Bulldog Inn we stayed at in Georgia when the car broke down and the guy with the tow truck dropped us off at the door. He said he had spent his honeymoon there years ago. I believe him. I think we had the same bed.

I noticed she had a few things on a blanket next to where she was digging a hole, including what appeared to be a gas can.

"It's a gas can," she said. "I'm burying five gallons of gas. I drove by the gas station today and there was a long line of cars and I heard on the radio we might run out of gas."

"And what's that?" I asked, pointing to a jar.

"It's 50 dollars," she said. "I decided instead of filling up the car I would bury the money. I saw where the stock market was crashing and our savings were lost. I figured I would bury this here in case we were about to lose our house."

"And what are you doing with that case of bottled water?" I asked.

"Well if we get another hurricane coming our way and the stores run out, it will be here."

The Long-Suffering Victim

OK, I made all of that up, except for the part about everything going down the tubes. There's no way she would be outside after dark digging holes. If she had an extra 50 dollars and we were about to get tossed out of our house she would probably spend the money at Jackie's getting her hair done so at least she would look good sitting on the couch by the curb.

I figured I could get away with it today, which is our 31st anniversary and who knows how many columns with her as the fall guy. Thanks, sweetheart.

Keyword: Otto Graphs, to read and comment on Steve Otto's columns.

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