Then other times I think maybe it's kind of weird and uncomfortable and pretty much like being trapped in a creepy Tim Burton film. You're scared, yet intrigued. It's kind of dark and mysterious, but also super...--well, okay, it's frightening. Let's just get that out there. And that wretchedly-dressed, odd woman with terrible hair is always around.
But I don't know, maybe it's less Tim Burton and more Grease or something. Because my point here is sure, I'm kind of hobo-looking and have bad hair, but also that I sing. Like, as if I'm in a musical.
My husband and I could be in the middle of a typical conversation about our day when suddenly our bed spins to stage center and the spotlight shines down on my face as I stretch my arms to the sky. The hub props himself up in bed by the palms of his hand, rubs his eyes and stares, aghast at what he has married. Or I suppose it could be pride. Men are so hard to read sometimes.
The Hub: Where did that light come from? It's fucking bright.
Me: [Loud, echoey stage voice.] Oh, honey, you're so SILLY! But anyway, so Plus One was pretty good today...other than the meltdown and almost killing T9 with a Bumbo chair.
The Hub: [Blinking, squinting, yawning, confused, probably shaking a little.] We'll just have to work hard on keeping on top of his tanturms. Especially if he's taking it out on T9...but really...that light?
Me: I know, hun. I AM working really hard...
HAAAAA-ARRD FOR MY MONEY! SO HAAAA-AAARD FOR IT HONEY! I WORK HARD FOR THE MONEY SO YOU BEEETERRRR TREAT ME RI-IIGHT!
The Hub: *sigh*
[Later, the curtain draws and we're on the telephone. The Hub is traveling for work and I've just put the children to bed. I'm sitting on the couch asking him about his day.]
The Hub: [Sleepy, groggy-voiced.] Nothing exciting to report, really. Just the same ol' crap at work.
Me: [Eerily chipper, despite frazzled hair and stained pajamas.] I hear you. Same on the home front, love-of-my-life. We miss you lots.
The Hub: Yeah, I miss you, too.
Me: Well, I guess that it's just that...
IIIIIIII AIN'T GOT NOOOH-BAHHHHH-DEE! NOBODY! NOBODY! AND....IIIIIIII'M SOOOO SAAAHD AND LOOOOOOOHN-LEE! SADANDLONELYSADANDLONEY!
The Hub: *sigh*
So you can pretty much imagine
Since I always blew him off (talk about socially awkward! no, but for real.), I'm pretty sure his heart still aches for me. But let me just take this opportunity to remind you, DAVE ANNABLE, that I'm married. And happily. So you can stop calling now.
But hook me up with Oprah. I'm so ready.
Me: [To Oprah, super serious, playing with my hair.] My plan is to more or less invent the kind of book that looks kindly upon childish drawings and occasional bits of writing. Maybe with room for my musical sound-effects?
Oprah: [Stares, twitches her finger, which I'm pretty sure is code for SECURITY!]
Me: [Hurried, shoving off grabs from men with earpieces.] Well, aside from the ones that already exist for kids...you know, with the buttons . JUST HEAR ME OUT OPRAH.
Man that woman can be such a ....
OOOOOH-OOOOOOH WIIITCH-AY WOOOOH-MAAHN!