I love my husband. There is no one else on this earth that suits me better than the man currently sitting in the recliner, next to me, with his laptop, watching the Super Bowl. And if I failed to tell you about Scott-isms, I would be depriving you of some pretty funny stuff. Mind-numbing, sometimes mind-blowing stuff. I’m doing you a favor. But back off, ladies. He’s all mine.
Scott’s mind is in a perpetual state of troubleshooting. This behavior is probably normal for an IT Director who is in charge of protecting a pretty substantial network and keeping it functioning for all users. He troubleshoots in his head all day at work and then he troubleshoots at home. Or in the car. Or on a vacation. It doesn’t matter if there’s even an issue. He will troubleshoot even non-issues. For example, we were driving on a road past a high school baseball diamond. There were a few random cars in the parking lot. “Why are those cars there?” “I don’t know, Scott.” I mean, I just don’t know. Why can’t wiener dogs fly? Why can’t we eat rocks? Why can’t chickens sing? If I wanted to, I could spend the day questioning everything. But Scott. He is a different breed. He DOES question everything. The cars are in the lot because someone parked them there. And then they left. And they haven’t come back yet. And if I can offer a reasonable explanation, he will close that troubleshooting ticket in his head and move on to the next ticket. It can be exhausting. I can’t even imagine how exhausting it must be to live in that beautiful mind of his.
But with this “troubleshooting” mentality comes a level of seriousness that sometimes gives my need to experience life’s funny moments a real challenge. Example #2: Megs the Friend recently sent me a link to an obituary that I found funny. Well, you know. Obituary funny. Not knee-slapping funny. Not tears streaming down my face and stomach-cramping funny. It’s more like dark humor but she and I appreciate that so… the obit. Anyway, it starts out like this, “Matthew Charles Slay of Trinidad, CA, passed away last week following a brief and courageous battle with an oversized piece of steak.” It ended with this, “In lieu of flowers, please cut your food into bite-sized pieces and chew it thoroughly.” Now, all the info in between those two sentences was really pretty interesting and it seems like Matt would’ve been a good guy to know. But it made me laugh and I appreciated the writer of that obit because I’ve always wanted to write real and true to form obits about people. I’d write my own if I knew exactly when I was going to die but I don’t.
But here’s where the Scott-ism comes in…I read Scott the first and last line of the obituary and he just nods and says, “yep. It’s dangerous if you don’t chew. I used to cut up the kids’ hot dogs into tiny pieces because I didn’t want them to choke.”
Didn’t even crack a smile.
“Scott,” I say, “This is funny, how can you not even giggle a little at that? I mean, the guy died, choking on steak and they mention it in the obituary. Then they tell everyone to CHEW THIER FOOD IN LIEU OF FLOWERS!”
“Gotta chew,” he says. But then he looks at me and laughs because I’m just about fall out of my chair at this ridiculousness. So he gets it, but my theory is that he always makes sure he doesn’t respond to it right away just to get me all fired up. For the love of Pete, IT’S A FUNNY OBITUARY!
About that…I think I find this so amusing for two reasons. First, I admire someone that can make me laugh, especially about a topic that isn’t usually meant to be funny. But also, because my personal goal is to leave this world in humorous fashion. If I’m gotta die, I’m gonna die funny and I’m impressed with Matt and his exit, albeit it was a little early. I’m hoping that when I do go, the way in which it happened makes you all chuckle because life is just, well, so damn serious sometimes.
Now, off the death thing (I feel like I think about death a lot) and back to Scott-isms. Just after that crazy January snowfall we had, Scott and I were out for a drive once the roads were all clear. I noticed that the snow was laying on all the branches of trees in a thick layer, except for the small trees and bushes. On those smaller branches, the snow collected in ball-like forms. I made the following comment to Scott, “Look how the snow collected on the smaller branches- like snow balls. Like ornaments. Wait! They’re SNORNAMENTS!!” Then I laughed at myself. Scott gave me a little smirk.
A smirk.
I’m all like, “HEY! I just said SNORNAMENTS!” I added a little extra volume in case he didn’t hear me. He gave me a little giggle.
Fine.
SNORNAMENTS!
The following morning, during my weekly, Monday 7:15 AM phone call with Jules the Friend, I told her about snoraments and she laughed. Out loud. A for real LOL. But it’s not just me! Later that week, she texted me to tell me that while she was out and about, she noticed how the snow had stuck to a utility pole and she desperately wanted to tell me about the SNOTUM POLE!
This.
This, friends, is why women need girlfriends.