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My Wife is Funny

I’ve been collecting some funny anecdotes over the past couple years with the intention of sending them to Reader’s Digest. They pay a couple hundred bucks for such, but the process is so black box that it’s not satisfying. You basically just fill out an online form with the anecdote, then click the Submit button. Unless they use the anecdote, you’ll never get feedback about them. And even if they do use them, it may be many months before you hear about it. Hell, if I wanted to post something and never know if someone even read it, I can post to my own blog.

So, here’s the true anecdotes:

* * *

I was needing some meds for a backache after a day of yard work. Looking at the bottles in the medicine cabinet, I asked my wife which I should take: ibuprofen or acetaminophen.

“Ibuprofen is an anti-inflamatory and for pain,” she explained. “Acetaminophen is for fever and pain.”

“So, they’re both for pain?” I asked.

“Yes, but different kinds of pain,” she answered.

“How many different kinds of pain are there,” I asked with just a bit too much attitude.

She paused only a moment, and said, “Come here, I’ll show you.”

* * *

My wife was putting lotion on her leg, and I asked, “You’re putting lotion there?”

“I’ve got a spot of dry skin,” she answered.

Seeing an opportunity to flirt, I said, “You want me to kiss it and make it better?”

Without even looking up at me, she said, “That would just make it more dry.”

* * *

I decided to shave off my mustache and leave my goatee, just to see how it looked. I liked it. My wife did not.

“You look like a character from Star Trek,” she said.

“Cool,” I said.

She shook her head and walked away, mumbling, “I should have known better than to say that to you.”

* * *

I was having difficulty reading an old comic book I’d found in a storage box. I asked my wife to look at the pages.

“I can read it fine,” she said.

“I thought maybe it looked blurry because it was old and getting faded,” I said.

Handing the comic back to me, she said, “It is getting old and faded. But it’s not the book.”

* * *

As we were walking out of a home improvement superstore, my then 4 year old son mentioned the signs on the glass doors. He couldn’t read yet, but he said, “I know what those signs say.”

“What do they say?” I asked without looking back at the doors.

“No bare feet, no animals, and no silverware,” he said.

* * *

I still don’t know how he came up with “no silverware.”


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