My Favorite Person

Many years ago I stood by my wife as we met our oldest son for the first time.  We’re about to celebrate that big guy’s birthday and the joy he brings into our lives (a solid 82% of the time), but every year I’m reminded of seeing my wife become my absolute favorite person again and again.

She’s been my favorite person since we were 18 years old.  She studied, read her text books, got involved in school.  I played GoldenEye and wrote papers at 2am.  She worked 12 hour days teaching while I sat in the basement and reset passwords.  She is strong, motivated and cares deeply about whatever she touches.  It’s admirable and being in proximity of her makes others want to try harder, do better, learn more and act fast.  Continue reading


Deck and Amy and the Visit


“Kitchen looks great. Thanks,” said an appreciative Deck as he entered the room.  “Wait. Why is the kitchen so clean?” His appreciation gave way to fear.  He knew what this level of clean  meant.

Amy, from the other side of the kitchen, turned to stare with wide, anxious at her husband, her yellow rubber gloved hands wrapped around a mop, and said words she that caused dread on the brightest of days, “my parents are coming.” Continue reading

The Outfit

“Stop,” Katie said from behind her paperback.

“What?” Questioned Calvin, just trying to get out the door and to the store.

“Go change you clothes,” Katie ordered.  Her paperback novel now in her lap, hands still holding either side to prevent losing her page.

“What’s wrong with this?” Calvin asked, moving his hands around to show off his outfit.

“What wrong with that? Sweetie, please.” Katie had tried for years to get Calvin’s attire to something resembling fashionable to no avail.  “You look like you’re on your way to the goodbye party of a suicide cult.”

“Harsh,” Calvin muttered.

“You are dressed like a person who, when neighbors and coworkers hear has died, they all say, ‘at least he won’t be in pain anymore’ despite the fact that there was nothing wrong with you.  You are dressed like how food would feel when the blender is turned on,” Katie explained.

“Well, thank you for your candor. I guess,” Calvin said.  He started walking back to their closet to find new clothes.

“No, wait, stay still.  This is going on Instagram,” Katie let loose her book and pulled out her phone in one very fluid motion to get a picture of her hapless husband trying to dress himself well.  “Captioned with ‘bless his heart’.”

“That seems a bit much,” Calvin said.

“And done.  Okay, go dress like a real person now. Love you,” Katie smiled.

“Love you.” Calvin changed in a hurry.

The Incident

Julion was not sure where the compulsion came from, but the stack of junk mail sitting on the dining room table just had to be opened right then.

“Oh, sweetie, check it out,” he said, holding a tri-folded piece of marketing jargon laced mail up to his wife, “the APR on this card offer is crazy low.  Go us!”

Rebecca stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, and stared out the screen door leading to the back door.  “Nothing has been the same since the incident has it?” She said.  Her tone was somber and the lack of emotion on her face would have sent concern through anyone other than her husband. Continue reading


“Now comes the less exciting part of the process, the warranty talk.  You two will most certainly want a warranty on that shiny ring there,” the salesman said.  The two soon to be wed ring shoppers were handed a piece of paper and instructed to review the various clauses.

“You have a fairly standard warranty there, covering scratches, dents, theft,” the salesman rattled off a list.

“This says, ‘in the event a supernatural being appears before you in a pillar of flame and smoke stating it requires the stone for a ritual pertaining to portal opening, surrender the rock and notify the store for a replacement.’  Is that a thing that happens?” one member of the couple asked.

“Oh yeah.  Things get weird after marriage,” the salesman said.  That no laughter accompanied the statement worried the couple.

Pretzels and Projects

Palmer was obviously agitated and in no mood to be ‘messed with’.

This was, of course, the perfect invitation for Lyndi to throw pretzels at his head.

“Stop it, Lyn,” he said to his annoying wife.

Another pretzel landed, and remained, in his ear moments later.

“I’ve a work thing to finish and the theme song from Dirty Dancing is stuck in my head. I’m in no mood for antics,” Palmer explained.

Lyndi chuckled, unable to contain herself, “so,” she said before laughing once again, “you’re not having the time of your life?”

“I’m going to work in the kitchen.”

Plastic Walls?

There’s a lot of trust that goes into a marriage. Continue reading