Living with Husband is not boring. And not just because we’re here, in Nashville, where thunderstorms and tornado sirens have made the last week entertaining. Or because I saw a Red-bellied Snake and Common Five-lined Skink and an Owl yesterday that made life exciting. But rather because, at any moment, something may come out of Husband's mouth that needs an explanation or at least proof of accuracy. I know some of this is because he’s Scottish and their slang is a whole kettle of crazy terms. When we were first remodeling our house, I’d have to look up the names he shouted at me to verify they weren’t made up and to get an exact definition of what a “Numpty” was and how being called a “Muppet” was insulting. After I stopped laughing that is. Hard to take an angry man covered in paint calling you a plushy puppet very seriously. Then Husband would tell these stories that sounded like pure bullshit. I mean, I have a tendency to exaggerate even the simplest story but his stories sounded like Hollywood’s version of anyone’s truth. We’re ten years into marriage and I still am shocked by some of the things he tells me. I’m still running to the Internet to confirm or deny or define whatever he’s saying. Take for example this story: In India monkeys are sacred and they cannot be killed. Now, “mobs of marauding monkeys have been wreaking havoc on residents, killing at least one” so they have taken to hiring guard monkeys to keep the other monkeys from causing trouble, disturbing the guests and guard the athletes at the Indian Games! Yeah, right! He told me this a while back and it was so freaking preposterous, I denied its accuracy and didn’t even bother to check the facts. And then we were at dinner with friends last weekend and the topic of killer monkeys came up. How it came up, I do not remember. But there we were, in the restaurant listening to Husband tell the killer monkeys in India story. Every single one of us at the table challenged the accuracy of the tale – pun intended – and he pulled out the old Wikipedia and “proof” that he was speaking the truth. Now my friend's husband joked Husband probably wrote the Wikipedia entry but I know he’s not conniving enough to bother with that. Why should he when stories like this exist? (I’d like to note that I can no longer find the Wikipedia entry he showed us. I honestly didn't try very hard. I kept getting distracted by these other stories that verify Husband’s version – here and here and here. Nuts.) Victorious, Husband went off to the bathroom and I changed the subject to other annoying things he does. Like when he makes himself breakfast and leaves the pan and the spatula for the invisible fairies to clean. Then I mentioned the spatula that we had was given to me by my mother and that I’d like to get another but the store was out of business and Husband came back from the bathroom and told us that that wasn’t called a spatula and what followed was more internet fact checking and conferring with the waiter – who by this time had classified me as crazy – and everyone stopped me before I started asking random diners what the thing was called. Days later and we’re still talking about it. General consensus is that the thing on the left is called a spatula in Britain and a spreader thing here and the thing on the right is called a fish slice or flipper in Britain and mostly a spatula here. Either way, I'm the one washing the dang thing every day. So there you have it, killer monkeys and a fish slice. Eleven years into this relationship and I’m still not bored. Flabbergasted, shocked, frustrated, exhausted… yes, but not bored.
3 Comments
Q.D
4/11/2015 08:52:43 pm
In Australia
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ej
4/12/2015 11:12:17 am
Q.D. - I have NEVER heard of the Emu War but screw husband, I'M adding that story into my repertoire!!!
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Q.D
4/12/2015 08:24:44 pm
Steal away, it is a highlight of our history ;) Leave a Reply. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
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