(To honor my parents’ fiftieth anniversary, I wrote a post in my father’s voice.)
Linda and me, we celebrated our golden wedding anniversary yesterday. You know, fifty years. That woman done put up with me fifty years!
Naw, I cain’t believe it either.
And she started dropping all these hints. Weeks before, see. Like she thought I was gonna forget our fiftieth. I may be almost deaf, but I ain’t stupid.
“Ro-wee, do you like this gold bracelet? Or this one?”
I never look at none of ’em. I cain’t keep all her finery straight. “You look beautiful in anything, Linda.”
See? See? That there’s the way to keep most women happy for half-a-century.
Remember I said *most* women.
“But Ro-wee…….I think I need a DIFFERENT gold bracelet to go with this outfit. You know, a new one……..”
“Now, Linda. You know we just spent a thousand dollars replacing the batteries in my pacemaker, and I bought you that diamond ring the other day.”
“Twenty years ago, Roy.”
“Well, I spent five thousand dollars on it, so if we divide them dollars up by year, I–”
“Never mind, Roy. I’ll just do what I always do.”
“I’ll buy the gold bracelet one day after I go to the gym. I’ll leave it in the car for a couple of weeks. Then, when I wear it and you ask me if it’s new, I’ll tell you I’ve had it a while.”
The woman thinks I don’t know she’s done that trick on me for years, but before I could tell her a thing or two, she slammed the bathroom door. Even with my VA-issued hearing aids, I heard the water running into the tub. Sounded like a cascade. That Ni-a-gra Falls, even.
I rocked myself out of my recliner. That dang water always made me have to take a crap, and it didn’t matter that Linda was in the bathtub. Here’s how I crap while she’s in the same room.
Rule Number 1: Closed doors mean nothing. I barge right on in. Usually, she’s just in the tub so it don’t matter. BUT if she ain’t…..
Rule Number 2: Desperation and threats work wonders for clearing the throne. I drop my pants, pinch my butt cheeks together and fart enough to let her know it’s coming any second. She gets right on up off that pot and jumps in the tub.
Rule Number 3: Get comfortable. It don’t matter that my wife’s two feet away. I don’t need no reading material. Since Linda’s right there and all, I can tell her how she shouldn’t a fed me them pinto beans for supper.
Rule Number 4: Crack a window and blame the smell on the paper mill.
Rule Number 5: Make sure to rate the dump. “Look, Linda! I laid a golden egg for our golden anniversary!”
She still ain’t speaking to me. We might not make it to fifty-one.
Thanks to everyone who sent Mom and Dad a card for their anniversary! It means a lot to them to know you read, you’re interested and you care. (And, of course, I agree with all of you who told them how great I am.)
Didn’t send a card? Share this post with a big HAHAHAHAHA!