Father's Day

There is something terrible, truly terrible, about being married to a man like Brice. After, say, about five and a half years of marriage and frequent attempts to express in words how nice he is, it has gotten nearly impossible to say something about his awesomeness in a new and interesting way. Yes, the real difficulty with being married to a wonderful husband is running out of clever things to say about him.

So instead of saying anything new this year, I thought I would instead review a few Brice-isms that made me laugh. Selected in no particular order and with no attempt at completeness (because you don’t really want an encyclopedia)…

A poem from high school:

Tribble.

Tribble trouble.

Double tribble trouble.

Double triple tribble trouble.

Captain, I think we have a problem.

Two jokes that originally inspired my crush on him:

Why don’t seagulls fly over bays? (Because then they’d be bay gulls!)

What’s green, fuzzy, has four legs, and will kill you if it drops on you from out of a tree? (A pool table.)

A moment from early in our marriage:

As I was writing in my journal one night, he walked up and said, “I brandish my elbow at you” and rubbed my knee with his elbow. I commemorated the moment in my journal, and since it was on the first page, every time I open it I get to relive that moment. And every time I smile.

Today at dinner:

We’d just eaten crème brûlée made from a mix, and I told him I thought it was so delicious that I would probably never make it from scratch again.* He said, “So we should really call it ‘crème hooray’!”

 

Some point in the nebulous past:

The time he couldn’t remember the word “macramé” and called it a “dangly afghan for plants.”

And more recently:

The way he walked into the room with his arms up in the air and said, “Got sock? Foot cold.”**

And there you go. A few moments that make me smile. Happy (late) Father’s Day, Brice!

*In case you were wondering, it’s called something like “Dr. Oetker” crème brûlée mix, and it is yummy and super easy. The stuff I make from scratch always tastes too eggy.

**Go read the picture book Socksquatch. You won’t regret it.