It turns out that a while back someone asked my wife and one of her coworkers what the secret of a successful marriage was. The coworker stressed the importance of harmony and that the wife should tend to all the husband’s needs, wants, and comforts.
It was at this point in the story that I interrupted my wife’s telling to laugh and observe that “Clearly your philosophy is different!”
Pokémon Go continues to be a thing around here, so occasionally I find myself being roped into Pokémon hunts. I’m still okay with this, but some hunts go better than others, of course.
Recently a special Pikachu, one wearing Ash‘s hat, showed up on sightings while we were out, and off we went in search. The hunt . . . did not go well at first, and both L. and his mother were getting frustrated, until finally L’s Mother exclaimed, “Where is that Ash hat Pikachu?!”
L’s Mother: We should do something fun tonight!
Me: Okay. Sounds good to me.
L’s Mother: Because it’s 7/17/17!
Me: Of course.
L’s Mother: I know it’s a made-up holiday, but it’s special to me.
Me: I know.
L’s Mother: Oh, and we should be sure to eat at 7:17!
Me: Too far.
This one is going to take a bit of explaining.
When she was a child, L’s Mother spent a lot of time around a couple of British expatriates. Since these were her formative years, it left her with traces of a BBC worthy accent with certain words, primarily those that sound something like ‘really’ . . . but only when she’s tired.
Today turned out to be an incredibly busy day for us all (hence the lateness of this entry), and at one point I asked her how she was doing.
“I was going to hide how ‘weary’ I am,” she replied. “But I have a tell.”
“Oh, look!” L’s Mother exclaimed while we were in the car the other day. “Cute puppy!”
Since I was driving, I could only spare a fraction of a second to glance in the direction she was pointing, but as near as I could tell, the puppy was indeed cute. So cute, in fact, that the puppy reminded me of our own puppy, Isa, and the emergency bath I had to give her earlier that day.
“All puppies are cute when you’re not the one getting **** out of their fur,” I chuckled.
This morning via text L’s Mother tried to congratulate me on replacing a door handle, but for some reason “handle” autocorrected to “hydrangea.” Her response to this was very . . . her:
Seriously? THAT’S what it gets from ‘handle’? Whose vocabulary needs that on autocorrect?
I could only think of one response:
Landscapers?
L’s Mother and I haven’t had much time for each other lately with all of us being some degree of under the weather . . . and because L. is six. In fact, last night she was bemoaning this fact, so I gently pulled her into my arms and assured her that soon we’d all be feeling better again and that she’d be [Censored. SERIOUSLY Censored. Whatever you think I might have said here, it’s probably tame in comparison to what I actually said!] in no time.
Now I’m pretty good at gauging my audience, but I wasn’t 100% sure I’d said the right thing until I saw her eyes mist over as she smiled at me and asked, “Really?! Promise?!”
“Are you gracing us with your presence today?” I asked L’s Mother this morning since it was well past the time that she normally leaves for work.
When she just sort of stared at me instead of answering, I began to suspect that my question was phrased incorrectly, so I tried again with “Will you be present today?”
This time she sort of half-chuckled and half-sighed before answering “I’m not leaving the house today if that’s what you mean.”
“Last night I dreamt that you had a group of handlers for your public image, and they decided to create you a girlfriend named Eileen Moore,” L’s mother told me the other day.
“Well ‘Eileen Less’ doesn’t conjure up the same image, now does it?” I replied.
