No one can make me laugh like my husband can. Well, a select few, like my crazy friend Betsy , offer up good competition, but Paul inevitably comes out the winner. Most of the time he doesn’t mean to, which makes it even funnier. He has this way of accidentally jumbling his words up – like switching immorality with immortality or Churchton Winsthill rather than Winston Churchill (that little slip happened during a trivia game the first year we were married and to this day I confuse it because I teased him so much).
Sometimes its just silly stuff that no one else would think is funny that we just laugh over for hours. We spoof our favorite movies and quote them to thumb wars. We turn every day conversation into songs we know – or turn songs we know into everyday conversation. We, to everyone else, would probably sound really dorky, but we laugh together every day.
We banter a lot too – with each other, with friends, even with strangers. That is one of the things I love about him – he always goes out of his way to make people laugh – me, his kids, our friends, the grocery store clerk, the gal at the window of Wendy’s, the employee working the aisles at Lowes or Home Depot, the hapless tour guide who gets stuck with us on his tour of Cincinnati, and so on.
Anyway, the other day he made me laugh. A lot. It was another one of those slip ups – one I almost fell inline with and then it hit me what he said and I dodged my agreement just in time (otherwise he’d be teasing me just like I get to tease him now).
We were at a restaurant eating this fabulous desert (we hardly ever get deserts) – but this one we had to try. The picture of it was divine and when we asked what it was, well, we couldn’t resist. It was called “Fire and Ice Cheesecake”. The waitress described it as “Similar to fried icecream (which Paul said he got to try in Mexico). It’s cheese cake coated with finely crushed cornflakes and deep fried so it is warm and crisp on the outside and cool and creamy on the inside. Then it’s drizzled with chocolate and caramel sauce. “
If you can resist that, you are a better person than I!
As we were eating our desert, our conversation went something like this:
Me (as I stab my fork in for a fourth bite or so): Wow, it’s frozen in the middle.
Me: I guess it’d have to be frozen or the cheesecake would turn to mush when they deep fried it.
He: Yeah. That’s probably how they do the ice cream too.
I paused staring at him a second thinking… almost wanting to agree, but something just sounded funny about that statement… then it hit and I giggled, which turned into a guffaw and the poor guy just sat staring with pleading eyes at the ceiling as I railed him with torrents of laughter.
He’s so good to put up with me. He promised to make me laugh, but I don’t think he quite meant it like that.
DH – Thanks for being such a good sport. *giggle*