marriage

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“Bonk! Bonk!”

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Okay. I had to fit those words in somehow. I cannot recall a time I have ever actually said those words before this week. My husband and I were laying in bed after the kids had gone to school (I selfishly love his crazy hours). And he proceeded to tickle me. I think I scared him silly when to get him to stop, I started yelling, “Bonk!” But it sounded more like a “honk” from a semi-truck being blasted through the horn of a fifty year old bouncer at the end of a long shift guarding the door to a room full of frogs that he had spent years trying to imitate.

Tickle.

“BONK!”

Tickle.

“BONK!”

Tickle.

“BONK!”

It was at this point that one of us erupted into a fit of laughter. And for the first time in history, it wasn’t the person being tickled.

“I think you broke my laugh box,” he said to me.

“Yea, well, that’ll teach you.”

Teach him what? That somewhere in the depths of my soul a semi-truck bred with a crazy clown and the only offspring they managed to produce was a terrifying sound?

I have to wonder what other freaky infant noises are being harbored in my soul.

“BONK!”

That baby might just be the most annoying creation in history. I need to quiet the urge.

Tickle.

“BO-“

by

A Day Of Married Life

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Let me say that there is a song out there that when sung, raises the hackles in the back of my throat (what? You don’t have hackles in the back of your throat? Well, how long have you been married? Give it time). And my husband. Well, he insists on singing it throughout the house in several octaves higher than his voice should ever go.

This, of course, makes the song more tolerable.

Ironically, the song is “Let It Go.”

I have tried that advice.

The stakes in my forehead throb with the pressure and each note makes the headache more intense. No stakes in your forehead? Please see the hackles in your throat diagnosis above.

So, to counteract this annoyance, I started singing the theme song of Darth Vader’s.

Don’t ask me why. The stakes told me to do it.

“Dum. Dum. De. Dum. Dum. De. Dum. Dum. De. Dum.”

That’ll do it. Surely that will show him what his song singing is doing to the deformities in my soul.

The “Let It Go” song miraculously stopped.

Then. In response:

“Dum. Dum. De. Du-“

“No! I was only singing that to annoy you!”

“You could never annoy me.”

“I don’t see how that is possible. You do realize I might quite possibly be THE most annoying person in the world.”

Silence.

“Not to me.”

And the snow drifts in my heart melt and the large sun that forms the shape of my husband looms large in my chest.

And the stakes in my forehead melt back down into ripples of wrinkles formed from too many songs.

And I swallow the hackles (not without choking. Love is pain).

And I slowly sigh.

Maybe that singer has it right after all.

“Let it go,” is great marital advice. Just not fantastic in singing form.

“Let it g-”

“No!”

“Dum D-”

Aaaahhhhh.

Marriage. ; )