Okay Okay I Lied…Sue Me
There’s nothing worse than a long, drawn out bunch of snivel in a confession – so I’ll keep this short.
I lied. I misrepresented myself. I misspoke.
I said that I have always been unfunny.
Technically speaking, this statement is untrue.
I WAS funny…once.
And no, I don’t mean that I used to be funny once upon a time. I mean that I was funny ONE time, and one time only. This singular event took place long ago, in a land of bliss, far, far away…
It was 1997. We were living in a little townhouse on post, making our way through the world to the tune of an Army soldier’s pay. I was pregnant (again) and ready to pop at any moment. There were no surly teenagers in our life, no slamming doors, no soccer carpools, no homework, and no peanut-butter sandwiches to make every morning with the crust cut off just so. Life was simple, and we were happy.
I remember that day quite clearly.
I was standing at the sink washing dishes. Sunlight was streaming through the window. Our three-year old was taking a nap and I was looking forward to a lazy Saturday afternoon. Todd got up off the couch and was headed for the fridge I’m sure, when he was distracted by the vision of his lovely wife – barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.
He walked up behind me and slipped his arms around my pumpkin belly. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I smiled at the memory of a similar kitchen event that landed me in my current condition. I leaned back against his chest. I tilted my head up for a kiss. He angled his head down to meet my lips…
and then I saw them.
Dozens of enormous black tentacles reaching out at me. They grew longer with every passing millisecond, each one a thick, dark spike threatening to impale my face. I froze in absolute horror. At that precise angle I had a perfect, straight up view of my husband’s long-overdue-for-a-trim nose hairs.
Slowly, I began to realize what I was looking at. The scream that I had prepared to launch subsided in my throat. My heart rate started to normalize and sound came whooshing back into the room. I heard the words as if they were spoken from far away,
“Wow, are you saving those to tickle my ass with later?”
I watched, befuddled, as the expression on my husband’s face went from confusion, to surprise, to shock, to amazement, to all out bent-over-body-rocking laughter. When he started wiping the tears from his eyes, it dawned on me that I was the one who had spoken.
I can’t explain it. I don’t know how it happened or why. Perhaps it was the first time I was possessed by OtherMe. I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure. But it was, without a doubt – funny. Mr. Hilarious himself was reduced to tears of laughter and that’s proof enough for me.
So there you have it. I lied. I also lied about keeping this short. Sue me.