Whereby he is Abbott and I am Costello.

abbott_costelloYesterday afternoon, my husband and I had a 3 o’clock appointment together.

No, there’s no change to the will.  No erectile dysfunction counseling.  We’re not hiring a hit man for anything.  (Yet.)  We aren’t secretly learning to ballroom dance.  Nothing interesting at all.

Geez, you people are nosy.  If I wanted to share that much detail about my life, I’d just get a blog.

Oh, wait.

So anyway, we had this 3 o’clock appointment.  I was going straight from my office and he was meeting me there.  I called his mobile phone at 2 o’clock and the conversation went something like this:

Me:  So, this 3 o’clock thing.  Where is it again?

Him:  On South Woods Mill Road.

Me:  So now I know about as much as I did before.  So where is it again?

Him:  It’s easy.  Take highway 40 and exit on Woods Mill and go south.

Me:  Easy peasy.  OK, see you there.

Him:  Wait.  So exit on Woods Mill and go south.  And then get off 141 at Clayton.

Me:  Wait.  What?  When did I get on 141?  I was on 40 and I got off on Woods Mill.  Since the place we’re going is on Woods Mill, I thought I was done with directions.

Him:  No, it’s complicated.  141 IS Woods Mill.  So exit 141 on Clayton and go left.

Me:  Wait.  What?  Is 141 like a highway – is it an exit on the right or do I just make a left onto Clayton.

Him:  You’re not going to get onto Clayton.

Me:  Well then why the hell am I exiting 141 onto Clayton?

Him:  The 141 exit is really Woods Mill.

Me:  I thought that 141 and Woods Mill were the same.

Him:  Yes, but sometimes it has Woods Mill signs and sometimes it has 141 signs.

Me:  OK, so I take 40 and exit on Woods Mill and then go south on 141 and then exit on Clayton which is really Woods Mill.  And even though I’m exiting on Clayton, I’m not ever going to turn onto Clayton.

Him:  No, I think you can turn into the place before you hit Clayton.  Remember that one McDonald’s over there by The Melting Pot?

Me:  Yeah, isn’t that the one we stopped at when Katie puked all over the old mini-van?  That one?

Him:  What?  No!  What are you talking about?

Me:  That time we were coming home from Lake of the Ozarks.  She puked all over the car after having McDonald’s for breakfast.  We pulled into a McDonald’s coming back into St. Louis to clean it up.  It was kind of poetic to have the problem begin and end at a McDonalds.  Remember?

Him:  No.  Listen to me.  Across from that McDonald’s, off Woods Mill, is the shopping center where this place is.  I think you can make a left into it.  If you go past Clayton Rd. you’ve gone to far.

Me:  Are you sure?

Him:  About what?

Me:  That we didn’t stop at that one after the puking?

Him:  WHO CARES!

Me:  This seemed like it should have been so simple.  How do you make everything so complicated?

Him:  Me??   ME??!?!

Me:  You’re not insinuating that I am part of the problem here, are you?  I didn’t make the streets change names nor did I call the 141 exit onto Woods Mill the “Clayton Exit”.  I think your ire is misplaced.

Him:  There is no ire.

Me:  Are you sure? I sense ire.

Him:  No ire.  Are you clear on the directions?

Me:  Are you trying to get rid of me?  If there is no ire, there is at least frustration.  Right?

Him:  No.  I’m fine.  So I’ll see you at 3 o’clock?

Me:  Absolutely.  And then after the appointment, we’ll figure out dinner.  What’s for dinner?

Him:  No, what’s for breakfast.

Me:  I didn’t ask what’s what’s for breakfast.  I was just thinking about where we should have dinner.

Him:  Where is lunch.

Me:  What?  I don’t know.

We somehow always end up on third base.  (Must be true love.)

By |July 21st, 2010|Indiscriminate Drivel|Comments Off on Whereby he is Abbott and I am Costello.

Witty title here

Insert Adorable Photo!

Compelling opening paragraph that grabs your attention.

Funny HILARIOUS anecdote that makes you laugh out loud and pledge your undying devotion to my blog.

Mentions of other funny stuff elsewhere on other blogs I like with links to them and encouragement for you to go visit!  Now!!  GO!

Apologies for my glaring inactivity on this blog lately.

Weak excuses about work and stuff.

Unconvincing promises to do better going forward coupled with pathetic plea for you not to abandon me.

Upbeat closing which brings the whole post full-circle.  Closure.  I like good closure.

(There, I gave you the framework – feel free to plug in your own content.  Who says I don’t challenge you??)

By |May 3rd, 2010|Indiscriminate Drivel|Comments Off on Witty title here

The world needs more of me…

I told you yesterday that I can do jazz hands.  You’re probably thinking “Who cares?  What kind of stupid talent is jazz hands?  How many ads can you find on Monster.com where people are seeking to hire those who can do jazz hands?”

Probably none, I’ll give you that.

The thing is, I bring a lot of important services to the world.  In fact, just this morning, I was thinking that I wished cloning technology was further along so I could clone myself, because there are a lot of things I do that the world needs more of.

Given that we’re not quite ready with the cloning thing, I could probably come up with a Plan B.  I could probably assemble a group of people with potential and train them to be more like me, to do the important things I do for the world.  I’ve considered this, however we all know the copies are never as good as the originals.  So, anyway, I’m not sure if that’s the best thing.  Plus, who knows if they could do all I do, plus the things that require natural talent, like jazz hands.  Some stuff people just can’t be trained to do, ya know?

I’m guessing it might be better if I just let the demand build a little until the cloning technology catches up and then – BAM – I can make exact replicas of me and I don’t have to worry about them paling by comparison to the original.  I’ll corner the market.

This isn’t about jazz hands.  I don’t want you to get caught up in that.  There are lots of things I can do – things that add real value to this world, way beyond the artistic.  Practical value.  Value that saves lives.

Example – I (or one of my clones, but you’d never know if it were me the original or one of the clones) could ride in the passenger seat of your car and give you real-time coaching on how you’re doing behind the wheel.  I already give this service – for free – to my husband.  I’m pretty sure he appreciates it.  I bet I keep his insurance rates down.  I know I keep the highways safer for your children.  And it was only that one time I thought it was a kitten and it ended up being an errant tennis shoe but a near miss isn’t the same as a real accident so that really doesn’t count.  Mostly, I add safety – it’s really the exception that I scream in panic and nearly cause a wreck.

I think I would take my army of clones and maybe brand us, collectively, as Husband’s Little Helpers.  We could also let these husbands know when they are chewing too loudly, when they load the dishwasher incorrectly, and when their channel-visits-per-minute have exceeded the acceptable limit.

Really, it’s like a life-coaching service but customized just for husbands.  Hey, you have to play to your strengths, right?  I have a lot of experience bossing nagging coaching husbands.

I’m a little nervous about telling you all this, because, let’s face it – some of you are lowdown dirty dogs and you could steal my plan right out from under me.  But the thing is, I don’t know how to price out these services.  I mean, I do it for free for my husband but really, that’s just a perk he gets because he’s married to me.  There would definitely need to be a price tag if I’m going to bring this sort of product to the open market.  I guess what I’m saying is that I’d like to use you to help me resolve this one pricing issue.  I’m not expecting you guys to solve the human cloning issue; we’ll leave that to the experts.

I recommend you sign up soon, though – the wait list is likely to be long.

In the mean time, you’ll have to settle for blog drivel, and maybe occasional jazz hands.

Be patient – it will all work out in time.  Really.

Until then – slow down on the highway when it’s raining, jesus!  And place the dishes in the dishwasher rack close enough together to maximize space, however not so close that the jets of water cannot get through to get them clean.

You’re welcome.

By |April 20th, 2010|Indiscriminate Drivel, Married Life|Comments Off on The world needs more of me…