My Birthday
My birthday was the other day and my wife got a big kick out of having to use almost two full boxes of candles on my cake. And the truth is, by the time she lit the last candle, the first one was almost burnt down to the icing.
At least my son was supportive. He said, “I don’t think you’re old.” I smiled and gave him a fatherly wink. Then he cracked up and said, “I think you’re really, really old.”
But even though I’m getting older, some things don’t change on my birthday. Like when I get cards from my parents. I still open them and pretend I’m really interested in reading the note inside, then I pretend to be surprised when there’s a check in there. I actually open them straight up and down so the check falls out. You know, like it’s the last thing I’d ever expect.
What has changed, though, is what I want to spend the money on. I used to want to blow it on stuff for myself. But now I want to spend it on something for my wife. You know, on something neat to make her smile. Like on a stripper. A girl stripper. I just think that would be cool. I’ve mentioned it a few times, how I’d like to do that for her, but she doesn’t seem to hip to the idea.
Oh, every now and then when she’s drunk she says ‘maybe.’ But then when she sobers up she gets a little angry and I have to swear that I was just kidding around. And I try to explain, but usually that doesn’t go so well. I get real serious and look her straight in the eye and say, “Why are you jumping my ass, you’re the one who brought it up. Man, you must have been more drunk than you think.”
Anyway, so here I am, another year older and my wife is mad it me again for trying to buy her something nice. That’s just the way she is, though. She’s tough to figure out because you never know what’s going to set her off.
At least my son was supportive. He said, “I don’t think you’re old.” I smiled and gave him a fatherly wink. Then he cracked up and said, “I think you’re really, really old.”
But even though I’m getting older, some things don’t change on my birthday. Like when I get cards from my parents. I still open them and pretend I’m really interested in reading the note inside, then I pretend to be surprised when there’s a check in there. I actually open them straight up and down so the check falls out. You know, like it’s the last thing I’d ever expect.
What has changed, though, is what I want to spend the money on. I used to want to blow it on stuff for myself. But now I want to spend it on something for my wife. You know, on something neat to make her smile. Like on a stripper. A girl stripper. I just think that would be cool. I’ve mentioned it a few times, how I’d like to do that for her, but she doesn’t seem to hip to the idea.
Oh, every now and then when she’s drunk she says ‘maybe.’ But then when she sobers up she gets a little angry and I have to swear that I was just kidding around. And I try to explain, but usually that doesn’t go so well. I get real serious and look her straight in the eye and say, “Why are you jumping my ass, you’re the one who brought it up. Man, you must have been more drunk than you think.”
Anyway, so here I am, another year older and my wife is mad it me again for trying to buy her something nice. That’s just the way she is, though. She’s tough to figure out because you never know what’s going to set her off.
posted by Roscoe at 5:34 AM
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