Everyone in our family (including our four parents) has been battling illnesses, from vomit to fevers to head colds to kidney stones.
Hubs: I gained back the weight I lost when I was sick last week. Do you know anyone with a stomach bug that I can make out with?
Me: Your mom.
Hubs: Gaaaaaaahhhhh!
I'm writing grocery items on the dry erase board when Hubs irks me, so I swipe the marker across his cheek.
Hubs: Not my face! That's my moneymaker!
Hubs and I are talking technology and his phone keeps dinging with chat messages.
Hubs: If we need to stream something from a website, I could always just attach my laptop to the TV via HDMI.
Phone: Ding!
Me: Or use the ChromeCast.
Hubs: [Hugs me in shocked silence and awe that I came up with a better solution than he did.]
Phone: Ding!
Hubs: That wasn't my phone.
Hubs works for a multinational technology company. They have an annual conference for his division, and he's been roped into presenting at the next one.
Hubs: I'm okay talking to groups of twenty or thirty people, but when you start talking about a hundred or more, that's different. I just pretend there's no one in the room and I'm talking to myself and it tends to go okay.
Me: I suppose, given your audience, that that's a better strategy than picturing everyone naked. You're lecturing to the indoor kids.
Hubs: I don't know. All those fat balding men are right up my alley.
Me: Have any of them actually been up your alley?
Hubs: Not yet. But I have my fingers crossed!
We're discussing getting rid of our cats. I love them, but my kids are allergic and they've become a huge pain in the ass. However, I hate the thought of them living in cages at a shelter.
Me: I'm just wondering if we should set them free. See how long it takes them to get hit by a car. Or gas them in the garage.
Hubs: Are you serious?
Me: Not really. I'm just afraid they won't go to a good home.
Hubs: So you're thinking of putting them out of their hypothetical future misery. This doesn't bode well for me as I age.
Me: Nope. But would you rather rot in a nursing home or die peacefully in your sleep?
Hubs: I'm not going to answer that question.
Me: Wise.
My best friend and her partner are coming to visit from Portland. They've requested a day out on the lake while they're here.
My mom: I don’t know if we'll be able to swim. The water may be cold.
Me: Especially after the mild summer we've had.
My mom: Well, they're probably accustomed to cooler water than we are.
Hubs (who has only been half listening): What? Lesbians can tolerate cold water better?
Mom: Yes. They're biologically adapted to survive in cold water.
Me: They live in Ooorrrrreeggooonnn.
Hubs and I are discussing stealing a lobster tail from the unmanned seafood kiosk at Costco.
Me: I'm gonna grab one and stuff it down my pants. No, wait -- you should stuff it down the front of your pants and if anyone looks at you funny, I'll just say I'm a very, very lucky woman.
Me: If I had it to do over again, I might just do a destination wedding.
Hubs: Planning for your second wedding? To whom?
Me: To. . . Dammit. I was trying to think of a convincing celebrity, but I don't have a crush on anyone.
Hubs: Shakira.
Me: Ooh. I would totally have a destination wedding with Shakira.
For more Shakira, click here.
I walk into Hubs's office and spot a 6-inch-long gray hair on his recliner.
Me: This better be mine. Because if you're cheating on me with another graying chick, we need to work on setting your standards higher.
Hubs: Nah. It's just a pube.
Hubs and I have been in the car for four hours.
Me: Apparently I'm not cut out for this anymore. My ass hurts.
Hubs: Don't worry. I'll take care of it. [Pause] I don't know what that means.
Me: Me either. But my massage therapist used to massage my butt. It felt sooo good.
Hubs: I want someone to massage my ass. You should take classes.
Me: In what? Ass massage?
Hubs: Just massage in general. You could do my back too.
Me: Gee. Thanks.
Hubs: Shoulders.
[Lengthy pause]
Hubs: Nutssss.
Me: You want a Swedish massage on your nuts? [Making karate chopping motions on my lap]
Hubs [wincing]: No. But they'd probably just scoot out of the way. When we get to the hotel we should put two cherries on the table and you can practice.
Hubs is a computer programmer and is obsessed with technology.
Hubs: I'm going to nerd out for a second. But just for a second. Then I'll go back to being cool.
Me: Um. . . Yeah. . .
We're watching the World Cup final and Goetze has just scored the winning goal.
Me: Do you know how much ass he's going to get?
Hubs: All of it.
We're watching the World Cup final and Schweinsteiger has just been hit in the face and is bleeding.
Hubs: They have stuff they can spray on that to stop the bleeding immediately.
Me: They're German. They probably just pour beer on it.
Hubs: Their alcohol swab is soaked in beer.
Me: They used a pretzel to soak up the blood and then poured beer on it.
Our preschooler says I'm four years old.
Hubs: Wow. If that were true, Daddy would be in jail.
Me: And Mommy would be in Guinness.
We're on the interstate behind an elderly man on a motorcycle.
Hubs: Is that dude shirtless?
Me: Yes. Unfortunately.
Hubs: I bet he has bug guts all over his nipples.
Me: Do you care if I put this on the mantel?
Hubs: I don’t even see what's up there. I don’t think any of that decorating stuff is necessary. I know you do it because it does make our house look more homely --
Me: Homely?
Hubs: Yes.
Me: Homely. Do you know what that means? It means ugly. I hope the word you were looking for is homey.
Hubs: Oh. Well. . . you're my homey.
We're talking about memorial service arrangements for my recently deceased grandfather, and about funerals in general. Hubs wants nothing to do with any of it and says he's going to fake his death.
Me: Just as long as I get the life insurance.
Hubs: Wow. It's always straight to the life insurance with you.
Me: I'm just saying if you're going to disappear and leave me alone with two kids, there better be something in it for me. I mean, other than a new lease on life.
Hubs and I are having a dispute about the correct way to do something.
Hubs: But I've been yelled at for doing it that way.
Me: I don’t care. I'm your wife, we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, and I trump everyone else.
Hubs: You trump my mistress?
My parents are preparing for a two-week Mediterranean cruise.
My mom: We're not packing separate bags. The travel agent says to make each bag half mine and half your dad's; if one bag gets lost, we'll both still have clothes. It's called cross packing.
Hubs: That happened to me in Paris. I had to go buy pants and some shirts so I could work.
Mom: Yeah, you didn't have anyone to cross dress with.
Hubs: Want to know why I'm so hairy?
Me: Why?
Hubs: Because I drink bourbon. It puts hair on your chest.
Me: How do you explain your back?
Hubs: I've had some cheap bourbon.
Hubs: You like my new pants?
Me: Yes.
Hubs (wiggling his eyebrows): Do you like what's in them?
Me: [sigh]
Hubs: I'm sorry. I can't help myself.
Me: I know. That's why I have a blog.
Preface: There have been reports of a peeping Tom in our neighborhood.
I'm literally stepping into the shower when I remember there's something in the oven. I grab a robe before I go running downstairs.
Hubs: Meh. Just go naked. Throw the peeper a bone.
In college my roommate had a Vietnamese friend (nicknamed Bill) who was very obliging about our farcical racism.
Bill: When I was a kid, I used to eat crayons.
Roommate: What was your favorite color? Which one tasted best?
Bill: Um, I don't know. Fire engine red?
Roommate: Ah. Tasted like Dalmatians, huh?
Preface: Hubs is bald.
Hubs returns from the bathroom and notices weird wet spots on his shirt.
Hubs: That's soap. I swear.
Me: Mmm-hmm. Because if you ever try to pass it off as hair gel, you're totally busted.
Our preschooler EB is standing in Hubs's lap eating a Rice Krispies treat.
EB: Snap, crackle, pop!
Hubs [grimacing]: I think she's talking about my nuts.
We're leaving dinner.
Hubs: Do you want to stop for anything on the way home? Drink? Snack?
Me: No, I'm full. But pleasantly full.
Hubs: That's my porn name. Pleasantly Full.
The baby has just broken the preschooler's princess headband and we're trying to keep her from freaking out.
Hubs: Anything your sister breaks, we can either fix or replace, sweetheart. [He pauses and sighs.] Unless it's Optimus Prime.
Me: What?
Hubs: My parents bought him before Transformers got popular and they stashed him away. By Christmas you couldn't find them anywhere so when I opened him up on Christmas morning I was SO EXCITED. Then an hour later I jumped off the couch and landed on him and broke his leg off. I cried and cried.
Me: Aww. How old were you?
Hubs: I don't know. Like fourteen?
I'm lying in bed watching Netflix on my tablet when Hubs walks in.
Hubs: Why aren't you watching that on the TV?
Me: Um. . . it hadn't occurred to me. And you're always yelling at me for not using my tablet enough. Apparently I can't do anything right technologically.
Hubs: Not with that attitude, you can't.
We're getting ready to go eat dinner. Hubs is wearing shorts and nothing else.
Hubs: I might just go like this. We might get a discount.
Me: Like a "Dear god just take it and get out of here" discount?
Hubs: Hey. A discount is a discount.
When Hubs and I were dating he made me a mix CD with the word jams in the title.
Me: The only mistake you made was not spelling Jams with a Z. Jamz. Like when Tara made the playlist of songs about butts and called it Ass Traxx. With two X's.
Hubs: Ah. Not just one X?
Me: No. That would've been stupid.
Me: I'm wearing my old glasses. They're not the right prescription and everything looks funny.
Hubs: So I look handsome?
Both of our daughters are crying.
Hubs: I'm moving to Mexico.
Me: Not if I beat you there.
We're talking about how happy our baby is.
Me: She sat in the yard tonight just playing with a stick and was perfectly content.
Hubs: I wish I could be that happy with just a stick. Of course, then I'd be retarded. So there's that.
We're sitting in a strip mall parking lot discussing the gaming store we're facing.
Hubs: Yeah, that's definitely a Dungeons and Dragons kind of place.
Me: I bet they have a back room where people get together and play role playing games for three days straight. One of them runs next door to Little Caesar's when they get hungry.
Hubs: "You! Your energy is down to fifty percent! You go get the pizzas!"
Me: Yeah. . . I'm actually cool, so I didn't understand that reference.
Hubs: Want me to explain?
Me: I don’t think it matters.
We're eating Korean food and Hubs's meal has come with a side dish of gigantic bean sprouts. I pick one up with my chopsticks.
Me: Want a sperm?
Hubs: Just one? That's what you're getting later. One sperm.
Me: I didn't know you had that kind of control.
Hubs: If I did, I'd have a very different profession.
We have a friend whose birthday is coming up and his wife is planning a surprise party. The day of, we learn that it's no longer a surprise.
Hubs: I wonder how he found out. She must have done something suspicious. I mean, like, if it were my birthday and the house was suddenly clean, I would know that something was up.
Following up on the last post about Hubs checking the garage for intruders. . .
Me: Thanks for going out there with your Louisville Slugger. . . and your baseball bat.
Hubs has slowly been outfitting his home office, and recently got a leather recliner.
Hubs: I'm looking at laptop trays to make it easier to eat lunch in the recliner.
Me: Why don't you just get one of those hospital bed swivel table things? They actually make stylish ones.
Hubs: Really?
Me: Yeah, it would be way more convenient. Like if the phone rang and you had to hop up, you could just swing the tray out of the way.
Hubs: I feel like that's the rabbit hole that would lead to me putting a bed pan in there.
We've been out for dinner and unexpectedly strong drinks.
Hubs: Let's hurry up and get home to the bourbon before I lose my buzz.
We get in the car. . .
Hubs: Yup, my vision is clearing up. Let's get rolling.
I'm giving Hubs shit about something(s). He stands and glares at me.
Me: I know. It would feel good, wouldn't it?
Hubs: Um. . . What would feel good?
Me: Smacking me across the face.
Hubs: Get out of my head!
We're watching a recorded episode of a show from December that we knew wouldn't turn out well because of freakish unseasonable severe weather that particular night. After the fourth meteorological interruption Hubs pauses the TV, which happens to show a very colorful radar shot.
Hubs: Jesus, it's just snow. Calm down. It's not like it was a tornado.
Me, pointing at the TV and reading the screen: Torrr-naaay-doooh.
Hubs: So, people are trying to set up an online game night on Sunday nights at nine. But I don't think I can do it because of the girls.
Me: Why not? As long as you can help me get one of them to bed before then, I can handle the other.
Hubs: Are you sure?
Me: Yes. If this is something you want to do, don't let us stop you.
Hubs: Maybe I'll tell them I'm in.
Me: Good. And I'd like to take this opportunity to point out once again that you have a cool wife.
Hubs: Yes, I do. Hmm. . . I probably should have bought her something for Valentine's Day.
Me: YEAH, YOU PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE, MOTHERF***ER!
We tend to let things stack up on our DVR and then binge watch our favorite shows. Last night we were watching the Christmas episode of Raising Hope, and Hubs noticed a commercial.
Hubs: I thought that promotion was over.
Me: Deee-cemmm-berrr.
Hubs is bitching about the industrial grade cardboard box he just dismantled to fit in our recycling can.
Hubs: It was big and thick anyway, so it was hard enough to fold it up and get it tucked in there.
Me: That's what shim said.
Hubs has been out of town, so I've been driving his car. We get in it today and he notices that his GPS stand has slid forward and is sitting against the windshield.
Hubs: Hit the breaks hard, huh?
Me: Yeah. . . Some dumbass a few cars up stopped short.
Hubs: You know you can't hide anything from me. I'll find the evidence.
Me: Actually, you have no idea. I intentionally leave just enough traces of little stuff to make you feel like you've got me pegged. I'm throwing you off the scent of the big stuff.
EB (our toddler) is obsessed with Disney princesses.
EB: Here, Daddy. Here's Snow White and Sleeping Beauty just for you!
Hubs: Snow White and Sleeping Beauty? That sounds like a dream I had.
Me: That sort of sounds like a date rapey dream.
My parents buy a cherry pitter. When they read the instructions, they learn it can also be used to pit olives.
My dad: Oh. . . Well, I guess some people don't like pimientos.
(Because he reads this blog, I feel it necessary to point out that he was being witty, not stupid.)
Hubs works from home. I've just arrived home late in the midst of a decent snow with a wind chill of 6 degrees; on the way I stopped to get hot chocolate and peppermint Schnapps because the kids are gone for the night.
Hubs: Oh, good. That will be yummy.
Me: I'm trying to warm up.
Hubs: Yeah, I meant to start drinking earlier but I got distracted playing Mario.
Me: Wow. Rough day at the office, huh?
Our receptionist: I don't think I got your fax. What did it look like?
Me: It was probably white with black writing.
