Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Sock It To Me, Stephen Hawking

Morning Readers,

     We'd been watching a movie together, Husband and I, playing our normal game of "Stupid Pieces of Actor Trivia That We Know But Are Completely Irrelevant to Life As We Know It". I finished an interesting tid-bit with, "Yeah, because I'm smarter than you."
    He laughed a long and hearty laugh evil pirates would be jealous of and replied, "Umm..I'm smarter than you. Why do you think I married you? You need me.... Are we really going to argue over it now?"

    My eyes wide, I gaped at him like a trout. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I think Mamma needs to lay down some ground rules. You're the one who needs me..you know...to tie your shoes and stuff...and...and.."


     He gave me the type of look you give a dog, right before you shoot it in a Disney movie. "Honey, that's sweet. Now let's see whether Kurt Russel actually escapes from New York, shall we?"
 
     Well smack me with a waffle and call me breakfast . Could it be? Had this man duped me into thinking he was a simpleton in need of delicate life assistance? I slid closer and began poking at the back of his neck.

      "What are you doing, Crazy?"

     "Checking your tag. I'm pretty sure I saw something back here that said I could return you within seven-hundred days of the original purchase date." I poked some more...nothing..

Shart..

      So that's where I'm at right now. How could this have happened? When I said, "I do", mentally I'd finished the vow with "plan to be the smartest person in this relationship, because you need me to guide you through life...Amen."
     Sure, Husband's great at handling all the electronic stuff I can't figure out, like programming the remote, wiring the house for cable, deleting all the viruses I let in the computer by clicking on "Free, Discounted, Half-Opened Beauty Products For Yooz!"

...but he's not smarter.

     Woman are the superior beings in every relationship...obviously. Sure, David Beckham can kick a ball in a net, but who's there to match his pants to his shirt, to his perfectly-coiffed hair? Umm..Victoria. When Matthew McConaughey wants to run down the beach, shirtless, who do you think's standing right there telling him exactly what shirt not to wear? Yeah...it IS that girl from Shear Genius...When Lincoln was sitting in that box and Booth pulled-out that deadly pea-shooter, who do you think tried to take the bullet?.....well, it wasn't Mary Todd Lincoln, but she would have if her skirts hadn't gotten in the way.
     I refuse to believe that I've married a smart man. That means I'm not superior, and we can't have that, can we? Let's say I choose to believe the shaggy-haired man I married, and believe that he's as smart or smarter than me. How on Earth am I supposed to parade around the house singing the square root of pie while juggling five eggs and free-handing the Mona Lisa on the refrigerator in "Burnt Sienna" crayon?...I can't.

Now, that's all going to look ridiculous...

     Well, I'd write some more, but I've gotta finish that replica of Rodin's "Thinker" I'm re-creating in cooked pasta, on my deck, before the babies wake up..

 Until Next Time Readers!
     


     




    
   

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