Good morning means “It’s my birthday” in spousese


So after several days of thinking my wife was mad because I correctly identified that the chair had four legs in response to the questionable assertion of “Good Morning” she made, I finally found out what “Good Morning” actually meant.

In referring the UCC, a law professor of mine once said, “The words literally don’t mean what they say.”

UCC and wives — both marginally incomprehensible and frequently quite aggrev…. I mean wonderful to spend time with in the quiet of my study.

“Good morning” was code for “It’s my birthday, numbnuts.”

Opps. Don’t know how I could have missed that.

I didn’t get the facebook pop-up reminder that tells me when the second cousin of the chick I didn’t like high school’s birthday is. So in an effort to save face, I say, “Honey, the day isn’t over yet. (Where did I put those keys…) I still have time.”

I reach for my shoes when the voice turns the room cold.

“It was yesterday.”

The ship is going down. I make one last ditch effort to save myself.

“It must be because you don’t look a day over 33.”

“I turned 33.”

I’m just going to go out back and sit with the dog. We don’t have a dog. But if we did, I’d be claiming half the space in dog house.

Move over little dog, cause the big dog’s moving in.

Whelp. Nothing else I can do. Might was well study civ pro. Maybe there’s a motion for “Get my butt out of hot water” in there somewhere…

 

 

 

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