So, there I was the other night doing something I never do. I was watching television. I mean, seriously, who needs the squawk box when you have a TBR pile as tall as a person, but there I was just the same. Anyway, I was flicking it around, and when Honey came into the room, I’d stopped on the Millionaire Match Maker thinking that these bachelorettes had it made. This wasn’t such a bad gig. All they had to do is suffer through Patti Stanger’s “tough love” when she cuts up your hair, clothes and breath. There I am thinking, annoying, but I could deal with it. That’s when Honey saunters over, bends down and whispers, “Don’t get any ideas.” And me being the absolute peach that I am? I whisper back, “Too late.” That was of course, until I proceeded to follow these millionaire-mate wannabes through their dates. All I can say is, yikes! And I thought the suffering ended with the Stanger self-esteem slap down? *gulps twice* After following the progress of one brutal date I was ready to turn it off, but I couldn’t. It was like watching a plane going down. Horrifying and mesmerizing at the same time.
Anyway, when Honey returns after the show is over, here’s the conversation.
“How was it?”
*insert deplorable attempt at a British accent here* “Oh, my darling, it was ghastly.”
“You should have watched the history channel. Learn while you’re being entertained.”
“Yeah, no.” I didn’t add that I’d rather slam my fingers in a car door. Let’s face it, if I’m going to watch T.V. I want to come away from the process feeling superior and better off than those poor slobs on the set. So the triple “M” did the trick.
“What was the ex-husband doing on the show?”
“Oh you saw that part did you? That guy went on there to pick his ex’s next beau.” I look up and Honey is scowling. I love when he scowls because it means two things. Number one, he’s bothered by something and two? This is the perfect time to mess with him and bother him some more. Poor guy. “So, when I go on there to catch my next victim are you going to help me pick him out?”
His scowl deepens. “The only thing I’ll be picking out is his coffin.”
I laugh until I hear him say, “And yours too.”
Now I’m the one scowling. “Hey, that’s not nice.”
“It wasn’t meant to be nice. I never joke about that kind of stuff and neither should you.”
I wanted to stick my tongue out at him because I REALLY *drags hands down sides of face here* HATE IT when he tosses the wet blanket at my attempt to be funny. And then when I see that superior look in his eyes I realize he’s stolen all my wanting-to-be-superior-and-feeling-better-about-myself-at-others-expense mojo away! I couldn’t let that happen. *Insert me drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair until he has almost exited the family room* But just before he does I have something of my own to toss.
“Hey Mr. I-ready-to-go-postal, I think the economical way to go with your double homicide would be to buy one coffin big enough for me and my chosen new beau. This would make all kinds of sense. It would be a “bury two stiffs for the price of one”, type deal and in the end? I’d get to spend all of eternity with that new-to-me stiff one.”
I was in the middle of snorting over my own hilarity when Honey pounced. Man, for a guy built like a linebacker he moves sleek and fast. He yanked me out of the chair and before I got the chance to protest I was out of breath from laughing so hard. He had my back hugged up to his front and he was tickling me as he growled things in my ear. Bad, bad…erm, actually they weren’t that bad, but yeah, those same words could have qualified for horrific if my mom or children had heard them…just saying. And, no, I’m not going to share what he said other than to say that there was mention about him showing me a stiff one. *wink, wink* There was also a mention of me dying for it, I think he said, but when he said the only place I’d be dying that night was in his arms…well, I’m not going to lie, I did melt a little.
*Sigh*
Who knew when I decided to watch the triple “M” it would translate into a double “O” for me? Score!
Riley