Date night! No kids, just my honey lamb and I out by
ourselves. Nothing could bring this high
down, right? Cue the hostess at the
restaurant of choice for the evening, henceforth referred to as Wet Blanket for
her flame smothering effect. The wife
and I walk in laughing. I would like to
think it was about something clever I had just said, but her version is
probably that I parked too close to another vehicle and I couldn’t get
out. Did I mention she writes fiction;
yes, she actually gets paid to make shit up.
So, we walk in laughing at my witty
joke and Wet Blanket greeted us and asked, “How many? Just two?”
“Yes, we are WITHOUT KIDS!”
answered my wife. Then I quickly and
fatefully added, “and we may move and not tell them.”
Wet Blanket’s sweet expression
evaporated, replaced with confusion. She
slowly responded, “That…would…be…harrowing.”
And, as her hand inched closer to the phone, I’m pretty sure she was
thinking about calling the police.
I quickly ruled out the first
response that came to mind, “’Harrowing?’ Do you have a f'ing thesaurus on that podium
or a table layout?”
Apparently, this young lady did not
realize my parenting guide evolved from Major
Payne. I considered explaining how
every parent should study Major Payne,
making my comment less “harrowing.” However,
people that have no sense of humor frequently struggle with comedic movies, so
there was no way she would catch a movie reference.
Response three had more promise. “Lady,
you don’t know the half of it. My kids
think ‘Hey, that doesn’t suck’ is a compliment.” And they do, too! There’s a story.
One does not get the girlish figure
I have by only eating greens. And when
it comes to cooking things, other than grilling meat, the only other things fun
to make are desserts. Trust me, I can
bake cookies, brownies, and well, you name it.
As the kids got older, they each had their turn at making cookies when
the remaining snacks in the house did not contain enough sugar. Despite my repeating the magic directions for
perfect cookies, they would follow the printed directions and burn them every
time.
One day I walked in from work and
smelled chocolate chip cookies. What was
lacking in the air was the smell of an additional layer of carbon, which piqued
my interest enough to ask who had made the cookies. When it was reported that our youngest
daughter had, my expectations dropped again.
Until I reached the kitchen.
There, laid out neatly on the cooling racks, were two-dozen gorgeous,
perfectly browned, chocolate chip cookies. Of course, I had to sample one.
“Hey, these don’t
suck!” I should mention that compliments
are hard to come by from me; one has to exceed the standards, not just meet
them. Well, my daughter heard the
compliment, and turned it into a chant, “I don’t suck!” The other kids quickly caught on, and after a
discussion of “that chant probably shouldn’t leave the house,” it was adopted
as an official Sparks House Kudo.
Alas, that story was too long to explain
to Wet Blanket, who was already contemplating pressing 9-1-1. So I opted for response number four; to turn
and leave. Because who wants to spend
the evening with that kind of “fun?” Seriously,
if I wanted to be around somebody with no sense of humor I’d call my wife’s
ex.
My wife; God bless her, shifted
into to salvaging date night mode. After
some negotiating, she talked the phone back into the cradle and my hand off the
door. Yes, date night was saved, and
turned out well in the end. Every once
in a while it takes these encounters to remind my wife, and I that we are not
for the faint of heart. A little edge
and some wit, so you are not rolled over, or feel the need to call the cops.
Oh! We didn’t move and the children
are tucked in bed as I write this. With
all the rules on waterboarding these days; who can you torture, if not your
children?
