|I was tricked and I thought I was trick proof (standard:humor, 900 words)|
|Author: Godspenman||Added: Jun 02 2013||Views/Reads: 1192/754||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|I was minding my own business last week, which is the only business I am concerned about, when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage posed a question.|
I was minding my own business last week, which is the only business I am concerned about, when the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage posed a question. It is in the area of questions I feel the most inadequate. Maybe it is because I have not heard all the questions yet, but I think I have come close. I should know that any question that comes from my wife has a hidden agenda. Usually, she asks questions that have no answers. “Let's go out for lunch today,” she said rather chipperly. Experience should have taught me that when she is chipper, I am in trouble, because I am always the chippee. “We have,” she explained, “some gift cards for a restaurant across town.” Then she smiled and that should have been a giveaway for me. When you mention lunch, and when you add the word “free” to it, I lose all sense of proportion and sanity, if I had any. Actually, to be honest about everything, it does not take much to scratch between my ears and get me purring. Then she threw in a perk that sold me completely on the idea. I love perks. “I'll drive.” When you think you have heard every trick in the book, somebody writes a new book. Usually, I forget some old trick that she has played, and here was an old one she was playing on me again. On the way to the restaurant, I had a little uneasy feeling, but as we sat down and began ordering, all suspicion faded into thin air. It was a scrumptious lunch and we both enjoyed being together, carefree and enjoying the ambiance. When the check came I casually said, “You know, we ought to do this more often.” She smiled and nodded her head. When we got into the car, she said somewhat nonchalantly, “Oh, by the way, since we're here I need to run into the mall and pick up an item.” When I heard those words, I froze. Not the mall! I hate shopping, especially at the mall. In my mind, the word “mall” is the acronym for May All Lose their Loot. Since I do not have that much loot to lose, I do not like going into a place designed to relieve me of my loot. Every time I walk down the center of the mall, I feel eyes glaring at me and piercing to the core of my wallet trying to suck out all my money. And, by the way, they take credit cards. Boy, do they “take” credit cards. When we parked at the mall parking lot, I indicated I would stay in the car and wait for her. “Oh, no,” she exclaimed, “come on in, you need the exercise. I'm just going to run in and run out.” Here is where the language differential between husbands and wives shows itself. Unless you are familiar with English with a feminine twist, you are going to get trapped every time. For example: when a husband says the word “run,” he is referring to speed. When his wife uses the same word it means she is going to run into every store in sight within the mall with one agenda, and that is to buy. For which I can say bye-bye to my money. Why don't local universities offer a degree in wifeology? They have degrees in everything else, why not here where it would be most useful. By the time I reach the equivalent of a doctorate in wifeology, I would be too old to do any good with it. Those who insist there is no difference between a man and a woman have Click here to read the rest of this story (37 more lines)
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