Spoiler Alert
Coal found the absolute worst
way to tell us
that I spoiled him
a little too much last weekend.
We had pre-thought—
which is really just
planning that knows
it’s doomed—
ATL Fish Market,
then the NHL Finals,
cuddled in close at Irby’s, or wherever.
Instead,
Coal’s digestive system
called an audible
on Mari’s carpet—
spoiling dinner,
the evening,
and pretty much everything else.
So I watched alone
as Florida skated circles
around Edmonton,
5-1 to raise the Cup,
cheers muffled,
screen blurred,
the chair beside me…
emptier than I cared to admit.
Skipped dinner.
Skipped drinks. (well, I had one)
Saved every appetite
for a better night—
one without rugs,
or cleanup,
or pre-thought plans to sabotage.
Tonight—
no more spoilers.
No careful planning,
no elaborate setup.
Just you,
me,
Coal feeling better,
and a quiet prayer
to whatever gods
handle date nights
and dog digestion:
Let tonight unfold gently.
Let this hunger be only for one another.
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