The Lesson of the Fountain (Skunky and I Get An Education)

Shortly after college graduation, I spent time with my childhood buddy and all around great American if there ever was one, Skunky Wilson and his wife Dawn, back home in Booger Hollow. While there, I leaned a great lesson concerning women and men—their thought processes operate in two different hemispheres.

One morning, Skunky asked if I would help him bring home a surprise for Dawn. We drove to the local home-and-garden store, where in a dark, musty back corner stood a large, ugly, puke-green garden fountain.

The look on Dawn’s face as we carried the fountain into the house was cold enough to put out the Statue of Liberty’s torch. And from that expression, I knew Skunky was sadly mistaken if he thought that ugly squirter of water would bring his wife many moments of immeasurable pleasure.

When the initial shock of the pure “pig-dog” ugliness of the thing wore off, Dawn hollered, “You’re not bringing that ugly thing into my living room!” But bring it in we did.

“There now, it’s not that ugly,” Skunky told her after he and I set it up in a corner.

“That thing is so ugly,” replied Dawn, “if I were a bird I wouldn’t take the time to poop on it!”

“That’s not a nice thing to say to someone who’s just tried to do something nice for you,” said Skunky.

“Nice for me? I wouldn’t have bought such an ugly thing let alone bring it into this house! Why would you say buying that butt-ugly fountain was doing something nice for me?"

"The other day, when we were at the store, you said you wanted it," was Skunky's answer.

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did, when I pointed it out to you."

"What?! All I said when you pointed it out to me was, 'yes, that's nice.'"

"Well, there you are," said Skunky. And the conversation deteriorated from there.

Needless to say, as the intensity of the battle over the fountain increased so did the temperature in the house. But when I heard Dawn say, “Ask Doug what he thinks [evidently, she saw the look on my face and read my mind],” the temperature increased ten fold. When she told Skunky she’d have me help her return the fountain to the store in the morning, I found a place to hide. Hey, as the saying goes, “My momma didn’t raise no fool.”

Later that night, Skunky and Dawn called a truce and the conversation was pleasant. Pleasant, that is, until Dawn said to Skunky, “Go ahead, ask Doug what he thinks of the fountain.” She and I discussed the issue when Skunky returned to work, after he and I had delivered and set up Dawn's surprise.

Let me tell you, I slumped so low in the recliner I was sitting in I could barely be seen over the armrest. But I was trapped and forced to give an answer.

So, I put it to Skunky as gently as I could. “Skunky," I said, "that’s the most gosh awful, ugliest, most hideous, gaudy looking thing I’ve ever seen. My [ex] wife has put up with a lot from me over the years, but I believe bringing that [I nodded to the fountain] home would be the thing that would do me in.”

“And there won’t be a wedding anniversary next month in this house if that thing doesn’t go back to where it came from,” Dawned chimed in.

Well, the fountain didn’t exactly go back to where it came from. You see, Skunky sold it to some naïve fellow who hadn’t yet discovered that men and women don’t always operate on the same plain of thought—boy, did Skunky’s brother catch heck when he brought his newly purchased fountain home to his wife.