Happily Wedded Wit!
In honor of our 17th Anniversary today, March 22, 2014, I’m re-commissioning this blog:
My pet peeve with my husband is his habit of queuing up on the kitchen counter anything that needs to be put back in the fridge, but he never actually makes the leap to putting it IN the fridge! As I watched him queue up the butter, milk, and juice on the counter, mere inches from the refridgerator door, I said, “You know, when we’re old and in the assisted living home, that’s the kind of thing that’s gonna’ drive me to smother you with your pillow.”
I’ve got nine years on my sweet man, and at times like these he loves to pull that fact out for a little airing. I can already see it coming. A poker face he has not. With an extreme head-tilt he asks me;“When WE get old?” He pantomimes pushing me in a wheelchair up to an imaginary door and ding-dong-ditching me on the invisible doorstep of the old folk’s home. With great exaggeration he presses the “doorbell” and mimes his arms pumping as he runs away. For theatrical effect he arcs a wide salute and says, “SEE YA!” By now I’m laughing so hard, I’m snorting, which causes him to break down too. Hysterical laughter ensues.
What I am most grateful for in my relationship with this lovely man is our compatible sense of humor. My was-band (my first husband, a very nice man by the way) and I shared a great sense of humor too, but we were young and there was a very bipolar quality to our relationship. Once, he and I were having a knock-down drag-out war of words on our way to a wedding in my rusted out Chevy Nova. It had stormed all day and the rain had pooled into deep bodies of water along the edges of the road. Seeing his opportunity and my lack of a floorboard, he accidentally swerved into one of the biggest puddles. A wall of water lifted my floor mat and drenched me AND my new Gunne Sax dress. (Yes, I am that old. I had a Gunne Sax dress back when it was new.) After a moment of stunned silence, I caught my breath, wiped the mud off my face and started laughing, hysterically!
With Alan there is a less volatile line between ‘hysterical’ laughter and, well, ‘hysterical!’ laughter.
One morning as Alan was heading out the door to try his first Yoga class I casually gave him a little advice; “Don’t wear those baggy shorts and go showin’ off the ‘good china’ to all those ladies in your yoga class.” When our daughter heard us giggling, she walked in and asked us, ‘What’s so funny?’ We looked at each other and said, “We were just discussing whose turn it was to do the dishes!”
Happy Anniversary Alan. Here’s to our unlikely partnership. Re-blogging this oldy, but a goody. Much like your wife.