Cold, Caves and Clobbers

You ever wonder what it was like to live in the era of the Cave people?  All I visualize is being clobbered over the head with a big clobbering thing and then being dragged by my hair into a dark cave.  I get an instant headache.  And then?  No jeans?!?!?  What a hollow existence that would be!  No life is completely fulfilled without denim!  If you can conquer and skin a big beast of an animal to make an off-the-shoulder man-dress, why can’t you skin…the…?  Whatyoucallitagain!?  The…the animal that gives you denim?!  Denimal!  We have one of those at the Mitchells Park Zoo!  Hehehehe…Same Zoo that my mother was poking the Crocodile with a stick to see if it was real.  Until the security got involved.  And sheeeeeeeeeeee was meant to be in charge of us all.  Sigh....    

I'm thinking about this because I'm feeling cold.  Don't you think about cave people when you're cold?  No?!  When you're wearing bellbottom jeans?  I figured at some point everybod… oh. Okay.  (shrug my shoulders) Each to his own then, I guess.  

And this is how I know that I would never have survived that era. I only wear a dress under duress really and thinking about a world where I would be forced to wear one every day come rain or shine?  I wouldn't even come out of my mother’s womb!  Every time she they would do an ultrasound, I will hold up my sign stating..."I shall swim for an eternity in the water's of my mother's belly until that dress law has been overturned!"  Not even the jaws of life would get me outa there.  Come looking for me and I will be planking up against the ceiling of her womb until they gave up their search!  She'd be pregnant for life!  Breached?!?!  Would have nothing on me!  That would be the end of our lineage right there!  I'd crawl into her back and hold her spine hostage if I had to!  Imagine if when women fell pregnant?  Their backs expanded and not their tummy's!  ROTFLMAO!  You'd see some statuses that would read...

"That awkard moment when your eyeballs are strained from trying to see your second trimester ultrasound!" 

Or

"What do you think of this gynae?  Did a scan of my baby, behind my back!  Mxm!"

Was there Winter in the Cave era?  I don’t think so. Not once have I seen a caveman in a coat and scarf!  Brrrrrrrr…but imagine if there was Winter!  O_O!  I'd be banished to a life of constantly hearing my teeth klaklaklaklakla-ering, and as punishment for using my mother’s spine as a bargaining tool?  Soon as I reached the marriage milestone, I'd have a constant headache because my cave husband would have no manners.  He didn’t even ask for me.  They just gave me to him because they were holding a grudge over that whole pregnant for life thing.  People were really petty in the cave era.  In my unborn mind, I was standing up for my rights and for a little bit of fun, thought I’d get a head-start on hide and go seek!  Everybody wants a proactive child who knows how to have fun, don’t they?  Well?  Not my cave parents.  It turned out that they would give me to my cave husband who wouldn’t know how to speak to me because he'd believe that actions spoke louder than words.  And that dragging me home until my ass was left skinless would somehow equate to “I love you, my darling wife who I didn’t even ask for!”   And I know my tenses are all over the place right now….just go with the flow.  Don’t be all English examish.  I’m just nervous in case my cave husband comes home and finds me sitting here blogging. 

In my humble cave, can I use the word, abode, to describe my cave house?  In my humble abode, there would be no, "Honey, could you brush my skins please?  Such a beautifully domesticated wife I have!"  Instead he would bring me his skins, throw them on the floor in front of me, “grunt” and all I’m thinking at that point is “Geeeez!  Were you born in a cave with all of that grunting!?”  So when I look at him hesitantly?  You know how when you stare at your husband as if you didn't quite hear him properly?  Secretly answering your own question and trying to figure out whether he said “new ring” or “chicken wing”?  All that wandering off of the mind?  Back in the cave era?  Wasn't allowed!  So, ofcourse!  

CLOBBBBER!!!  

Then once I managed to peel my head off the floor, it'd come to me, what he said, what he meant, what he wanted would come to me...as easily as the staggering migraine, "Ohhhhhh, you wanted me to brush your...?  Silly me!"  But I'd be doing all of my thinking in cave language!   In Cavelish.