The thing about farm work was that it was hard, hot work. Jonathan Kent didn't mind hard work. He'd been doing it all his life. And hot? Well, that's what you get living in the Kansas plains at the beginning of summer. When there weren't threatening clouds in the sky or hail beating down your crops, there was just clear, blue sky and sweltering heat. "At least," Jonathan mused, "there was a good breeze out today. It made the heat almost bearable."
Jonathan walked from the south pasture towards the farmhouse - the house that had been in his family for three generations. He had always hoped to have a son to carry it through the fourth. But Jonathan knew that bigger things were in store for Clark. He caught whiff of a delicious smell coming from the house. Martha had always been a perfect wife. "More than a hick like me ever deserved," thought Jonathan. And by the smell of things, she had made his favorite…meatloaf. Nothing fancy, just regular old meatloaf and some mashed potatoes and corn. He remembered when he first told Martha what his favorite dish was and smiled. "Unrefined tastes," she had joked. "Well, there's nothing wrong with simple," he had replied. "If you want fancy eats, we can sell the farm and move to Metropolis."
Jonathan looked to the west as he climbed the back stairs to the house. The sun would be going down soon. They probably had another hour of daylight. It was still early, but he was looking forward to a quick shower, some food and getting to bed. It had been a pretty hard, sweaty day.
"Hi honey," Martha greeted him as he walked in the door.
"Meatloaf again?" joked Jonathan with a smile.
Martha punched his arm softly as he washed his hands in the sink.
"Where's Clark?"
"I gave him some money so he could go and see a movie tonight. We've got the place to ourselves for a while tonight." Jonathan looked over his shoulder and saw the playful smirk on his wife's face. Martha was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Not her usual daily wear, but since she wasn't at the Talon tonight and it was a hot day, he could see the appeal of something cool.
"Is that so?" he replied with an equally playful smirk. "Well, after supper and a shower, maybe we can get down to some serious snuggling."
"Oh, no, mister," Martha said as she approached him slowly. "Do you remember last week, when Bart was here? I promised you soap and a hose, and that's what you are going to get." Martha playfully ran her hands over his shoulder and down his back.
"Uh. Martha… don't you think… what if Clark comes home."
"I told you, he's gone for a while. And it looks like my big sweaty farmer could use some soap and a hose again. Only let's make it interesting." Martha led him to the table and sat him down. "Now, close your eyes." Jonathan gave them a little roll first, and then complied. He felt Martha take his shirt off and rub his shoulders. Man, that felt good. "Ah, ah… no fair peeking," said Martha playfully. "Keep 'em closed." Jonathan heard Martha go to the other side of the kitchen, and open a drawer. When he heard her near him again she ran her fingers through his hair and then Jonathan felt a small kitchen towel go over his eyes.
"Martha! What do you think you are doing? I mean, isn't this sort of thing better meant for the bedroom? And people who are a bit younger than us?"
"I just don't want to spoil the surprise," replied Martha in a silky voice.
Jonathan sighed. "OK. Have your evil way with me, woman," he said with a grin on his face.
"Follow me now," she said as she took his hand and led him out the front door and down the steps.
"Uh…Martha? Where exactly are we going?"
"You'll find out soon enough." She continued to lead him through the yard and past the fence. "OK. Stop."
Jonathan stopped. He could feel Martha slink behind him. "Ready," she asked as she removed the blindfold? "Now keep your eyes closed." Martha moved to his right side, her hand on his arm. "Now, open your eyes."
Jonathan opened them, still puzzled in his mind what exactly his wife had planned. He looked down and saw a hose, a bucket of soap, and the red pickup truck.
"I thought the truck could use a good washing before you had your meatloaf tonight, dear," said Martha, barely able to contain the laugh building up inside her.
Jonathan shook his head and chuckled. "Women," he thought.
"You know dear," he said in as deep a voice as he could muster, edging closer to his wife who was now smiling a sweet smile with a touch of triumph in the corner of her mouth, "I think you're right." With that, he bent down, picked up the hose and chased after his wife, laughing as he heard her squeal when the first burst of water hit her in the back.
