It was late Monday night and everybody was in bed. Earlier in the evening, we rented a Sandra Bullock movie where she has all kinds of problems after her husband dies. As we were popping the movie in the VCR... oops! I mean DVD, we caught part of a reality TV show where a bachelor must choose between two ladies. One lady is age 48 and the other one is 25. Okayyyyy...
.
ANYWAY, back to the sleepytime speeches... Mrs. Craver was so disturbed by the movie widow's trauma, that she announced that I have to let her die first. As lovingly as I could, and without laughing, I said "Sure; we can do that.".
But then, I postulated that if she died at the age of 48, I would probably have to seek out a 25-year-old to marr...(WHAM!). What possesses a man to say such a thing out loud?! Before I had finished the sentence, a fist broke through the opaque darkness and it almost caught me in the throat. It nearly knocked me off the bed! I'm sure she didn't mean to punch me... it was probably a nervous twitch or shifting sleeping positions, or... or making it clear that a man should not say such things..
Ice pack? I love you, Sluggo..
Image by: goatmanbaldy
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23 comments:
craver
I don't think it was a nervous twitch. ;-)
Oh, quite funny! Now, where do we line up for left-hook practice?
I saw your pic and thought you were going to share a party punch recipe. I have plenty of punch recipes, so another example of the stupid things we sometimes say was a hilarious substitute!
I like your wife.
"What possesses a man to say such a thing out loud?"
I always use Flip Wilson's line: "The devil made me do it!"
But that never seems to work.
Just kiddin'.
Thanks for sharing.
That was hilarious. And oh-so-well-written. Just think. If you hadn't said that, she wouldn't have punched you, and then you wouldn't have had this perfectly brilliant anecdote to post here. All things really do work together for good . . . or something.
Yeh for Mrs. Craver!!
Hmmm... ESI, why would you think that?
Ha! Don't forget LL, that she has to kiss this pretty face. No left-hook practices here, now go outside and dismiss all those eager people who lined up. I'm not going outside until every last brass knuckle has left the parking lot.
The drink looks yummy, doesn't it Deborah? I enhanced the color just a little bit, but was surprised at how hard it was to find a picture of punch that did not look alcoholic and with the ice-cream floating on top.
That's why I call her "Sluggo," Stacy. She's so funny! Sometimes she grabs a roll of that "relaxed muscle" I have all around my midsection (ahem) and pinches until she hears the sound she wants.
Flip Wilson?! Boy, Don, does THAT bring back memories! Yeah, that line doesn't work for me either.
Jenn, somehow, I don't think that anecdote will make it into the Our Daily Bread devotionals.
Great Halfmom... as if she NEEDED more encouragement!
I usually follow up those kinds of hits with a large stretch that MJ *might* get in the way of that pushes her out of the bed :).
But, man I feel your pain :).
No matter how I play that scenario in my head Pete, I always see myself ending up in an Intensive Care Unit. If I ever have the nerve to try it, I'll let you know how it goes... I hope.
First, I was thinking how funny it was that you mentioned the bachelor show about the two ladies. I was still just waiting for the punch recipe which I assumed you were saving for after the movie! The way you make connections is amazing! And dangerous! And very, very funny.
Two cheers to Mrs. Craver for keeping you honest.
Say it ain't so Craver!
I hope you have learned from your mistake... hehehe.
I love it when my wife hits me. It reminds me that she's a strong woman. Everybody who loves strong women raise their hands! (Me! Me!)
Mark... really? Not Amy. I can't see it. And being from a family where anger knew few bounds I have a hard time seeing hitting as an acceptable mode of communication. But maybe that's just me?
Now that's an interesting exchange between Mark and LL. When Mrs. Craver slugs me, it's almost never out of anger (remind me to tell you about a funny story) and here's what she's saying between the lines:
--I feel comfortable playing with you.
--I trust you, that no matter what I do, you won't hit back.
--You're rugged and durable; I'm lucky to have you as my protector.
and...
--Don't ever make that stupid comment again or it will be your last.
P.S. I love you, Honey.
What do you say, Fellas? Would you make the same interpretations?
I am really curious about the consensus of this last set of comments. Please, comment here some more, people!
Mate,
Get used to the ice pack. And just following on from Debbie's comment ...
Nice party punch shot (and Mrs Craver's punch sounds like it was fairly lethal when it connected with your personal space!)
Mrs Craver, give him hell!
Next update please ....
Cheers
David
Completely forgot to say - great post title!
Oh, now I was just trying to be silly. But L.L. is right. Domestic violence is no laughing matter.
On the other hand, violence at my house is so good natured, I'm not sure it really counts. We all just play rough.
But it is definitely play.
Good one, Craver!
Ahhhhh. Many of us men bear the wounds of "oh no I didnt mean to say that out loud".
Thanks for the comments guys. Good of you to visit, Mike.
Gotta catch some sleep now.
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