I am a new wife experiencing the many wonders and tribulations of marriage. In my quest to savor every moment, no matter how small and seemingly unimportant, I started this blog. My husband is the inspiration and it is here where I will chronicle our life together, depicting the hysterical, loving and eye-rolling events along the way.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Comedian

The husband likes to think he's funny. He tells me all the time. "But babe, I'm funny!"

The problem is, his idea of funny and my idea of funny are completely different. I mean completely.

I have to tell you that the husband is a high school teacher, so he deals with 16 year olds all day. And inevitably, he picks up on their lingo. And uses it. And thinks he's funny. He also picks up on their 16 year old behavior. And things that should not be funny, entertaining or at all interesting to a 28 year old man are suddenly hysterical, enjoyable and applied to his and my every day life.
Recently, he started using the phrase 'your mother' all the time. Our conversations would go something like:

Me: Babe do you want some pasta with the chicken?
Husband: Your mother wants pasta.

Huh? At first this confused me. That doesn't even make sense. My mother wants pasta? What??
And he found this hysterical. In fact, the more confused I was, the funnier he thought it was. And because he found it so entertaining it only encouraged him to use it more.

Me: Do you need socks babe?
Husband: Your mother needs socks.

Me: I really want some brownies.
Husband: Your mother wants brownies.

And so it goes.

I partially blame the 16 year olds. I purposely do not laugh at these 'your mother' moments. I know laughter fuels the fire and I just don't want to go there. The problem is at work. I imagine him standing at the front, commanding attention from the helpless teens. They have to listen to these tales of torture that the husband bestows upon me. And of course they are going to laugh. Afterall, these stories are much more entertaining than learning about the causes of the french revolution. Although I understand their dilemma, they are truly working against me.

(not the husband, just an example)

Possibly the worst part about it all is the husband does not see it this way. He comes home day after day telling me how funny his students think he is. Reasoning with him that they find him hilarious because they are immature, hormonal 16 year olds who are trapped in his class does not work. He will forever think of himself as being a comedian.

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