And now, I present to you some of the Sharbys’ Greatest Hits (a.k.a. Here’s What Happens When You Marry A Blogger)…
Top Gun at 4 a.m. ~ February 4, 2010
The Sharbys had trouble sleeping last night. Lots of trouble. It got warm (30!) outside and our heat stayed on and there was overwhelming desire to shed clothing in the middle of winter.
We did the “lay awake and wonder if the other person is awake” thing where we’re trying to be courteous while wondering if perhaps our time in the middle of the night would be better spent playing canasta or solving the world’s issues.
When we finally realized the other was awake, we decided it was time to totally conquer the world’s issues.
Actually, we discussed how hard it is to relax, that we have no visualization that works.
For example: I try to imagine floating on the pontoon. “Up and down, water sounds, floating up and down, warm sunshine, cool breeze,” I explained to Carrie. “Floating along in my mind and then all of a sudden, my brain exclaims, ‘WANNA GO IN!?!? WE CAN PLAY CATCH! OR HIT ME IN THE FACE WITH THE BALL!”
Carrie said, “Oh you almost had me and then I got totally excited. I see your problem. Wanna know what I think about?”
“What?” I asked.
“I start reciting the dialogue from Top Gun.”
“I’m sorry you what?”
“You know. ‘He loved flying with you, Maverick. He would have done it without you. He would have hated it, but he would have done it.’ or ‘I’m afraid they can see it all over my face. I’ve fallen for you Maverick.’ You know, lines like that.”
We then spent 30 minutes (THIRTY MINUTES) quoting Top Gun, laughing profusely, and randomly bursting into Top Gun’s greatest hits, singing at the top of our lungs inexplicably and giggling uncontrollably.
Then we calmed down for a bit. I wasn’t sure if she was asleep but she moved around for a second so I took a shot.
“I can’t sleep, Maverick,” I said.
“I know. It’s okay, Iceman,” she whispered.
We have issues.
Facetiousing ~ January 8, 2010
We were driving along yesterday in the blizzard, totally on a roll of making fun of, well, just about everything.
“Man I love facetiousing,” I said. “And it’s a verb now. Facetiousing.”
“Yeah,” Carrie said all thoughtful. “I prefer sarcasming.”
“I think you know why.”
Boner ~ December 31, 2009
So we here in Sharbyland have been discussing bones a lot lately. Particularly how Carrie throws me a lot of bones (does all the cooking, the majority of the heavy labor intensive project we are undertaking, grocery shopping, etc.) and I don’t throw her quite as many.
She includes relegating the Droid to me as a bone whereas I just see it as “making sense” but that’s just a euphemism for “bone” I guess.
When we lay it all out there, actually, I don’t have a lot of bones to throw. I spend pretty much zero dollars because I work 60 hours a week so it’s not like I’m particularly wandering around malls looking for things to buy. I say that’s a bone for her financial analyzing heart. But other than that, it is true. If looked at in the right light, I am definitely on the weighted down side of a one-sided relationship.
However, I am nine years her junior. Therefore, I am technically a trophy wife.
Today, I had a text message on my new Droid that said: “Can you stop after your appt and pick up pop, bread, milk, juice, miniwheats, chips, some type of bar or cookie for snacks, and a breakfast danish? This would be a small bone.”
I believe I am barred from denying a named bone (even one that is much closer to a box of milkbones considering it’s fracken New Year’s Eve and all anyone does tonight is eat, drink, and get DUIs and therefore, the grocery store was its own little apex of the Hellmouth).
I therefore texted back: “Sure. I’d be happy to bone you.”
I am in an adult relationship. Sometimes, I just have to remind myself.
When My Mind is Wandering, It Goes to Stupidville ~ September 18, 2009
Last night we were getting ready for bed. Carrie was brushing her teeth. I was changing into shorts and a T. We were talking because we really do basically talk nonstop right up until we fall asleep.
Suddenly, a strange thought flashed through my mind and I stopped. I looked down at my shorts which I was holding out in front of me.
I stared at them for a long time, judging the potential injury that could occur. I considered the benefit, the feeling of elation at having accomplished something I suddenly wanted to accomplish more than anything in the world.
“DO IT!” Carrie said with toothpaste flying everywhere. “DO IT! I’m up for an emergency room visit.”
The thought? And I quote: “I am so sick and tired of having to put my shorts on one leg at a time.”
My passionate “taking of stands” knows no bounds.
Bringing the Fun ~ July 29, 2009
We just raced to see who could take our bras off (shirts on) first.
I won, in case that saves any face in this regard.
Then my wife looks at me and slaps my arm, “You! Are! So! Fun!” and smiles with her whole head at how awesome we are.
And That’s Why We Ate Chicken ~ May 29, 2009
This morning, the new Subway commercial came on….the one that starts off by flashing a big burger on the screen and then ends with people falling through hammocks because of eating the big burger. The moral, of course, is to eat more Subway, which I don’t think we’ve done in two years.
The commercial appeared this morning as my wife was getting dressed. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I was watching this yesterday and I thought, ‘Man, a burger sounds good.’
“Then I realized the moral of the commercial was people who eat burgers are fatties.
“And that’s why we had chicken last night.”
Menu planning, the Sharby way.
I’m Supposed To Call ONLY If It’s Important ~ December 31, 2008
It’s Carrie’s hell week this next month (yep) and so I’m only supposed to bother her if it’s important.
“Guess what?!?!?” I scream.
“If you go to the “Career” setting on Guitar Hero it gives you more song options including “The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World!”
“It’s like the most fun song to drum and you know what’s amazing? I was pretty accurate with my air drumming in the car all those years. It’s impressive.”
“Are you actually calling me to discuss your ACCURACY in AIR DRUMMING?”
“Does this not fall under the umbrella of important?” I ask, shyly.
“Accuracy. In air drumming.”
“You said for better or worse. It’s your fault. Love you bye!”