Men are funny.
Not "Ha! Ha! " funny-
but strange funny.
Like... that is a funny looking snake.
Or that was a funny tasting shrimp.
Or Lizzy Borden was a funny girl.
Sometimes it takes all the brain power
that I have
to fit into the same realm as my husband.
Priorities tend to differ.
Languages conflict.
Definitions are blurred.
Take for example a recent event
at our household...
By a bit of luck, we won a bit of money.
Not a lot.
Not enough to build a new deck
or retire our vehicles.
But just enough to buy ourselves
an item on our Christmas wish list
that Santa failed to bring us
in December.
He wanted a guitar amp.
I wanted a Wii.
We were happy.
Thrilled.
He was overwhelmed that the UPS guy
would soon be delivering his new love.
I coddled my purchase from WalMart electronics
like it was a preemie newborn.
I got my gift first,
sitting it on the kitchen table last Saturday
with a bit of excitement
blurred with a bit of guilt.
It was a lot of money.
But I was hoping to exercise away
my thunder thighs by Labor Day.
To move-
burn calories.
And have fun.
The next day,
it was still there.
Politely waiting for a man
to interpret the list of directions
and installation guides
and nest of confusing wires.
Another day passed.
My husband went by the kitchen table
a hundred times a day.
Could he not see that the Wii
was still waiting?
Did he not know that
it could not possibly
install itself?
Day three.
I decided I would give it
a good Girl Scout try.
Carefully, I opened the package,
pulled out the contents
in an organized manner,
and began reading
the simple plan.
I was so proud!
But for some reason
the TV wouldn't work correctly.
The input wouldn't put out.
I couldn't view the video
or hear the audio.
No little avatars greeted me
with little nods
of their round heads.
Nothing.
A big blue screen.
Silence.
No Wii.
No Wheeeeeeeeee...
Finally on day four
he asked if I was enjoying my Wii.
Now- I realize he works long hours
and doesn't have a lot of free time
or the patience for frivolous requests.
And-honestly-
he is not being cruel-
just selective.
So I had been quiet and accommodating.
"I'll take a look at it later," he promised.
Day Five.
The UPS man arrives at 3 p.m.
My husband comes
in from work at 7 p.m.
He's unboxed,
unloaded,
hooked up
and hugged
his new amp
by 7:05.
I just smile.
...Listen to that lovely guitar.
So clear and smooth-
emanating from the new amp.
My Wii sits in the other room.
Quiet.
Patient.
Unused.
I told you men were funny.
But my husband just doesn't realize
how funny I am.
And I don't mean, "Ha! Ha!" funny.
I mean Lizzy Borden funny.
