Due to the Man's crazy work schedule, we don't see each other much. And when we happen to occupy the same place at the same time, he's usually unconscious. So on the very rare occasion that a) he's not working b) we're at home and c) he isn't comatose, we try to catch up on each other's lives as quickly as possible (you know, before he falls asleep again.) Not that we have very deep and meaningful conversations...
Me: I think you put too much lighter fluid on the charcoal.
(The Man lights the grill. Giant flame ball erupts.)
The Man: Do I still have my eyebrows?!
Me: Told you.
The Man: Let's go to Dairy Queen.
Me: I don't want to go to Dairy Queen. It's too expensive.
The Man: YOU'RE too expensive!
Me: Can you please take the garbage out? It smells like nasty.
The Man: YOU smell like nasty!
Me: Shooting clays are on sale at Farm & Fleet.
The Man: YOU'RE on sale at Farm & Fleet.
(and so on, and so forth....)
The Man (singing): "I keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding out.....keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding out."
Me: Are you singing Leona Lewis?
The Man: I don't know. It was on the radio.
Me: You know the real words are "bleeding love" not "bleeding out."
The Man: Yeah, but "bleeding out" is more manly.
Me: Right. Because singing the regular words to Leona Lewis is just downright girly.
The Man: Can you come put me in a rear-naked choke?
The Man: I need to practice how to escape a rear-naked choke.
Me: Because that happens all the time?
The Man: Just do it, please.
(I put him in a rear-naked choke. He hits his head on the bedroom door. I stop.)
The Man: Ok, I can't practice MMA with my wife.
Me: Why? Didn't I do it right?
The Man: Yeah, but since we love each other and stuff, we always stop when the other gets hurt.
Me: Sorry that our love got in the way of violence.
The Man: That's ok. I'll just spar with Dale from now on.
Me (calling from work): Wanna take a study break and go to Starbucks?
The Man: Yeah, I just gotta finish cleaning up first.
Me: Cleaning up what?
The Man: (long pause) The bowl of cereal I spilled.
The Man: Don't worry, I kept the mess contained.
The Man: It spilled in my lap, so I grabbed a bunch of junk mail from the coffee table to keep the milk from seeping onto the couch.
The Man: I waited until the milk was absorbed into the mail and my t-shirt before I got up.
The Man: So I just need to change my shirt and I'll be right there.
Me: What am I going to do with you?