 It’s my own fault, really. If I didn’t provide her with so many reasons to laugh at me she wouldn’t. Luckily for me she knew what she was getting when she agreed to marry me. Maybe she just wanted somebody around to make fun of for the rest of her life. I’m fine with that. If my purpose in life is for her to have somebody to rag on, then so be it. I know I’m somewhat goofy.
Take for example my dance moves. I remember as a kid going to dances, or to clubs as a younger adult, and I could boogie! My moves were smokin’ and the dance floor actually caught on fire once. I heard somebody say it was just a cigarette butt that got dropped on a napkin, but I knew better. That wasn’t burning paper I smelled. It was the fiery soles of my shoes.
My wife repeatedly asks me to not dance in front of the children. She doesn’t want them to pick up any of my moves. She says she wants them to actually learn how to dance right. I don’t buy that line for a second, though. I think she is just afraid the neighborhood kids will want to hang out at our house all the time for dance parties.
“Who wants more soda?” I will ask the kids. “This party is about to start rockin’ with this next dance mix!”
Last week I proposed a new laundry arrangement that would significantly cut down on our clothes folding time. I came up with the brilliant idea of just living out of laundry baskets - one for socks and underwear, one for shirts, and one for shorts and pants. I never fold my socks and underwear anyway and most of my wardrobe consists of t-shirts and shorts. What’s the point of folding them? By the time I leave the house I have already worn the wrinkles out.
Her response to that was something to the tune of, “Have you just totally given up?”
“No, I’m just saying it would save us lots of time,” I replied.
“And what kind of example do you think that will set for the children?” she asked.
“They don’t have to know. I’ll keep the baskets in the closet!” I said.
I thought is was a great time saving solution, but the only good thing that came out of that conversation was laughter and utter disbelief. I’m still holding on to the idea and may revisit again in the future after she’s had a few cocktails.
One other thing that she laughs at me about is how I get frustrated when my food falls apart. This mostly happens when I’m eating an overstuffed hamburger or sandwich. When I take a bite of a “too-big sandwich,” the meat or tomato has a way of shooting out the back end like it was greased up with WD-40!
I also don’t like it when I take a bite of pizza and the cheese separates from the crust and pulls off with the first bite. Not only does this create a food eating mess but it can also scald the face! I should know as I got second-degree burns on my chin once when the cheese blew out of a stuffed jalapeno. I was hungry and didn’t wait for them to cool off when they came out of the oven. To this day my wife still makes fun of me for that. You would think since it has been ten years she would have forgotten about it. Not my wife. No way. She likes to constantly remind me of how quirky I am.
I guess if the shoe fits...
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Quirkee Voices 
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