Powerball

First of all, you need to know that we don’t gamble and we don’t play the lottery. I was so naive about how one plays the lottery that I had to quiz my coworker about it this week. “There’s a sheet of paper with circles that you fill in? Can you use a pen or a pencil? And how many bubbles do you select? And does it cause flashbacks to the Scantron exam answer sheets we filled out in grade school?”

My project team decided to go in together and try to win this week’s $1.5 billion Powerball jackpot, so we each dropped $2 in the pot, drew up a humorous contract to prevent any single member of the team from running off with the money (it includes clauses such as, “team members shall not murder, attempt murder, or maim one another…”), and made our purchase. Separately, I had the wild idea to buy a few tickets on my own then surprise my husband when and if I won something. Plans changed though, so I ended up going straight home after work.

Sometime after dinner I mentioned my surprise plan to my husband then asked him to drive us to a gas station since I was still determined to pay the “stupid tax” and buy a few tickets. He patiently waited while I bubbled in numbers on a couple of lottery forms then he drove us home after I was done foolishly spending $21. Here’s the conversation that took place on our way home.

Her: I feel silly. $21 on lottery tickets; I’ve paid the stupid tax. Oh, make that $23 with the one I purchased at work. I should have donated that money to someone in need.

Him: But if we win that’s not much money spent. Oh, and I bought some tickets too.

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Pop Culture

Wife: Do you know what the term “Netflix and chill” means?

Husband: No. I’d imagine it means to watch Netflix and relax.

Wife: Yeah, me too. Except somebody said it at work today and when several others laughed really hard at what he’d said I asked why it was so funny and someone just said with a snicker, “It has another meaning” so then after I got home I looked it up. *reads definition of the term from a random website*

Husband: How do we fall behind on these things?

Wife: I don’t know! Usually you’re up to speed though, so now I’m worried!

Husband: Ohhhh! Now that we’re talking about it, I think one of the developers used that phrase today, and at the time I just thought he was talking about watching Netflix and relaxing. Who used and laughed at that phrase at your office?

Wife: (recites names)

Husband: They’re not married, right?

Wife: Correct.

Husband: Maybe that’s the secret; they’re in the dating world and we just don’t know it because we’ve been married so long.

Wife: That’s what we’ll tell ourselves, anyway. (Also, this reporter doesn’t seem to know what it means, either.)

Holey Underwear, Batman!

I’ve heard this complaint from several of my girlfriends, so perhaps it’s a common issue among married couples our age. Regardless, it still drives me nuts that my husband insists on keeping and wearing his holey underwear well past the point where they’re functional and to the point where they’re really only suggestive of underwear. (Remnants of underwear? Fragments of underwear? The ghosts of underwear past?)

I suppose if I were one of those wives I could just creep in under the cover of darkness to throw out the holey underwear, but I just can’t bring myself to that type of behavior. He respects my space, my style or lack thereof, and my privacy, and I aim to do the same for him. I married him for who he is and vice versa (haha, sucker!), and we try not to change one another for our own benefit. Still, The Holeys resurface in our conversations from time to time, because, well, I just can’t. *eye twitch*

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About Me, according to my husband

Q: What makes your wife sad?

A: Piles, my piles [of random stuff]. Also, war movies based on true stories.

Q: What was your wife like as a child?

A: OCD, probably a bit bossy. But very cute.

Q: What makes you proud of your wife?

A: Her independence.

Q: How are you and your wife different?

A: I like breaking the rules.

Q: Where is your wife’s favorite place to go?

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Happy Nine Years, Dude.

Most years I just lie to my mom now when she asks if I’ve had my flu shot, but I happened to be at the doctor’s office for a routine appointment when they were administering quadrivalent flu shots this year, so I got one. (Quadrivalent, for those of you who don’t know what it means, translates loosely to “bad mamma jamma.” Bad mamma jamma, in turn, can lead to some fun Web searches if you don’t know what it means.) Afterward I promptly called my mom to tell her how responsible I’d been, in hopes that it might buy me a year or two during which she won’t nag me about flu shots. That theory was scrapped today when she found out I’m sick and she started a new chant that I’m certain is sponsored by whoever produces Tamiflu.

Anyway, flu shot. Did it. And now after comparing symptoms with my sister who was tested for the flu and diagnosed with one of the A types, it turns out that this mini-plague I’m suffering now may actually be the flu. Except I’m handling it far better than unvaccinated folks would, so contrary to all the whining I’m doing to my husband, it won’t in fact be the end of me.

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October

I wrote this one a few years ago then stashed it in my Drafts folder. Now seems like a good time to finally post it.

October is for falling in love, over and over again.

The seasons change, warm spices come back into regular use, kids young and old get to dress up at Halloween, the trees turn colors, jackets and layers enter into rotation, and the temperatures drop just enough for snuggling. In addition to all the things this month already has going for it, October also possesses a certain magic for me.

The first notable October happened six years ago, when, through a series of unexpected and highly improbable events, I went on a first date with him. By the next October we were excitedly (and distractedly) planning our marriage.

Fast forward to the following October, when I was anxiously awaiting his return. As I stood there breathing the (ocean-scented) October air, he came back to me at the end of a first deployment. That October was exciting because of all the new things it brought to our lives as we reaped the benefits of all the hard work we’d been putting into fast-forwarding ourselves into adulthood. Never mind that as soon as we were together again the countdown to the next separation began; we were happy to have that October together, and we lived fully in each moment.

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