Conversation with My Wife (188)
Sometimes we spontaneously burst into song. We’re not bad people, just bad singers.
When I want to warm up something to body temperature, I stick it under my arm. Simple, easy, I just need to keep that arm against my side. Other people — one of whom married me — just sticks it under another part of her anatomy for the same purpose. Usually it’s a place-and-forget¹ kind of thing, until she needs to retrieve it.
Usually.
Last night I walked into our main bedroom sink area, and as I did, Deb’s tube of lip goop (which needs to be body temperature to spread easily) falls on the floor.
ME: Honey, are you okay?
DEB: Sure, I just leaned the wrong way and the goop fell out. (reaches down to retrieve tube)
ME: Oh good, I was afraid your boob had broken, and I didn’t know how to fix it.
Both of us look at each other in the mirror, and simultaneously sing:
BOTH: 🎵 How can you mend, a broken boob? 🎵
DEB: 🎵 How can you stop the goop from, falling down? 🎵
Both laugh.
ME: It’s like what they say about people with purple brains: “Grape minds think alike.”
DEB: We don’t need other people to make us laugh, we have each other.
Yes, we talk about boobs. What, you don’t?
And the Bee Gees seem to be clueless, by the way.
¹It is hypothetically possible that someone may, once or twice, have gone to put her bra on and had something fall to the floor. Followed by, “THAT’S where that went!” or something similar. Not naming names, you’ll notice.
Copyright ©2021. All rights reserved. Watch it, or you’ll be singing “How Can You Mend a Broken Head?” in a really high voice.