Near Death Experiences

Laying on the sofa, I glance at the clock and realize that it's past dinnertime. “I’ll go and make dinner. Nothing fancy. Homemade pizza. Quick and easy.”

He’s laying in the armchair with the laptop on his lap. “I’ll just finish this. Then I’ll help you.”

The kitchen is a mess and I wash dishes before I start cooking. The pizza is easy, a can of this and a bag of that, all prepared earlier.

He passes the kitchen. “I’ll help you soon.”

The bathroom door slams and I roll my eyes, “Soon” is such a relative term. The pizza is in the oven and I take the time to read today’s paper.

“So, what can I help you with?” He comes into the kitchen.

“Nothing.”

“You should have told me,” he mutters and goes back to the laptop. “How long until it’s done.”

“Five minutes. When the bell rings.”

He’s sitting there, two meters away from the kitchen door. The bell rings five minutes later, just as I told him. I take the pizza out of the oven and cut it into slices.

“How much do you want?” I ask while I carry my plate past him.

“Just one,” he doesn’t even look up from the laptop.

It only takes me seconds to fill his plate and carry it to him. He still sits there, studying the screen on the laptop.

“Here!” I growl.

“Oh!” He looks surprised and puts the laptop away. “Already?”

Ironically, most men don’t know how often they have near death experiences.