Conversation with My Wife (20)

While I may not be as cute and I look older, guess who gets called when it’s time to carry down the full laundry basket?*

Cute, younger-looking one on the left. Actually-younger (I have my birth certificate available on request) one on the right, with dozens if not… several dozens of not-totally-gray hairs on view. And thousands of transparent hairs on top.

We were out having lunch together, and split a sandwich. The nice waiter brought each of us a plate with half a sandwich, and chips. Deb’s plate had mostly intact chips; I got broken ones.

ME: “Apparently our waiter likes you better. Is it tough being the cuter, younger-looking half of the couple?”

DEB: “Well, sometimes it is harder being almost four years older than my spouse.”

ME: “I think of it as slightly more than three years older.” I was born in November, Deb in March.

DEB: “For 8 months of the year it’s four when you do the math. Just saying.”

ME: “Or maybe you remind him of his mom — ”

DEB: “ — whom he likes better than his grandfather?” <sticks out tongue at me>

*“Or I just take it down in two loads,” said my wife. “What? I thought you knew that?”

Conversations with My Wife (collection)