5.11.2010

Can't fool this one, cuz he doesn't know he's getting fooled

As some of you may know or have already deciphered, the Husband and I have about one thing in common. We’re both quirky. And that’s where our list of personality similarities fizzles to an end (okay fine you might want to add stubborn, controlling, and pig-headed to that list). I’m sensitive. He’s not. I’m a worrier. He’s not. I like artsy stuff. He couldn’t care less. I like to spend money on clothes when I can. He definitely does not. Currently he is cycling through the two pairs of decent pants he owns. I like to plan things. He usually flies by the seat of his pants. I’m pretty observant. He is not observant, at least not to the same things I am.

Sometimes I can and do use these differences to my advantage. Sometimes it creates a much needed balance. And other times, it just makes for a frustrating but comical relationship. Case in point, my latest April Fool’s joke.

Let me set up the scene. It’s March 31st, about 11:30 PM. I’m trying to think of something totally bizarre to do to the Husband when it is officially April 1st in half an hour. I don’t want the joke to be mean, and I don’t want it to be dangerous. That cuts out about 78% of the ideas I have floating around in this here brain of mine. I’m wandering around the house looking for some spark of brilliancy. That’s when I set sight on our salt shaker. From then on out it’s a done deal. Salt + toothbrush=funny.
The Husband is busy watching some Nova program so he is in a deep intellectual zone. I’ve got free reign. I smuggle the salt shaker into the bathroom and painstakingly arrange salt crystals on his toothbrush. I wet the toothbrush to help the salt stick better, hoping the Husband won't notice his brush has been freshly moistened. The light is glinting off the salt no matter how carefully I arrange it. I think for sure he will notice this. Most people look at their toothbrush before putting it in their mouth. At least this was my thinking. I should have been thinking in Husband brain waves though. Really that would have saved me a whole lot of time and effort.

By the time I am done with my deed, the Husband is ready to hit the sack. I listen outside the bathroom door, just giddy with my own devilish ways. I hear him start brushing his teeth. I start giggling under my breath with a little snort I try to stifle. If you can somehow in your mind picture a maniacal redhead, crouching in a dark hallway, while light is gleaming from underneath a closed door, that is pretty much the exact scene.

But the Husband is still brushing his teeth. I am waiting for an extreme reaction like, “What the heck! Salt! Wife!Why I oughtta!” Or even a choking, gagging sound. Instead all I hear is the movement of bristles, just the calm gentle sounds of someone brushing their teeth for two whole minutes. He’s a very diligent brusher I must give him that. But what’s wrong with his sense of taste, I start to wonder. Then I start thinking the salt trick is a bust. I must not have put enough on to pierce his taste buds of steel. I sulk out of the hallway, saddened by my flub of a joke.

But I’m not easily defeated. I decide to try the salt in one more place he is sure to go. I sneak in to the kitchen and pour a good helping of salt into the glass he’d been drinking from. It’s fairly obvious there is salt at the bottom so I pour some water in to dissolve it. I’m about 98% positive (these percentages are extremely accurate) that he will disregard the fact that there is stagnant water in the cup and just opt to fill it up all the way before he drinks his ritual “before bed glass of water.”

I hear the bathroom door open. And before I know it I’m face to face with the Husband. He mentions nothing of tasting salt on his toothbrush. No matter. He’s sure to taste something this time. My eyes widen in satisfaction. I’m about to bust up laughing so I retreat to the stairs where I kneel down out of view. Any minute now. Just as I thought; he overlooks the water that is already in the cup and fills it up the rest of the way. Then I hear him take one big gulp. Wait for it. Wait for it. There’s about to be salt water all over the wall. But then I hear him take another gulp. And another gulp. Then I hear him fill the glass up again and resume his gulping.

This is when I start to realize the possibility that the Husband is a spy, and he has trained his body to counter the ill-effects of high sodium intake. Not only is this guy privy to Top Secret Missions and lying to me about it, but I’ve been cooking dinner for him for the past five plus years. All those worries of food poisoning were for naught. And no wonder he’s adamant about owning a gun and a Crown Victoria. Flashes of True Lies, Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis come to mind. And then I resolve with myself that I will not be so cliché. I will not be recruited and become a super sexy spy husband and wife team. I just won’t do it. Not even Brangelina style.

I escape to the bedroom and await the Husband’s return. I thought for sure this was a clever prank. Not clever enough for a spy though. Then it all just seems so hilarious. I can no longer contain myself, and I start laughing uncontrollably the minute he walks in. The Husband is used to me doing things like this, but that doesn’t stop him from asking me what’s so funny. That’s when I tell him the whole sordid story of the previous half hour. The toothbrush. The salt. The cup. The salt. Then what he tells me is funnier than any April Fool’s reaction I could have imagined.

The Husband did indeed brush his teeth with the salted toothbrush. And he did indeed taste the salt. But his first reaction was not that I was the culprit. Instead he thought that he had eaten something really salty the last time he brushed his teeth, and it was residual saltiness. Then he thought maybe he had some sort of medical condition that made you taste salt. Then he thought the brand of toothpaste was now being produced with salt in it. The workings of this man’s mind! Never once did he think that his dear old wife was up to no good. If I tasted salt on my toothbrush, he would be the first on my list. Also I would have seen the salt on my brush because those are the sorts of things I observe.

Then regarding the cup of water, he said it definitely tasted salty which only reaffirmed his belief that he had a medical condition. He thought he needed to seriously cut back on sodium in his diet. As to why he kept drinking it, he said he poured the rest out (I did not hear him do this). If that is even true, still wouldn’t a person exclaim something like, “What’s with all the salt!” I would have. And I would have spit it out in the Husband's face too because he can’t get anything by me. I'm super suspicious which he obviously is not. No, instead he keeps his thoughts to himself. He doesn't even bother to tell me that he is possibly afflicted with some salt disease. These are things a wife would like to know, even though I know the real cause.

Now as far as April Fool’s jokes go, it would have been funny to enrage the Husband and have him shout out in surprise and disgust. But the fact that my husband is so not observant actually makes this joke all the more satisfying. We both laughed until we cried and had to blow our noses. Like I said, a frustrating but comical relationship, and dare I say enjoyable.


Mom? Did you pee your pants?

5 comments:

The Pizza Family said...

By far, the funniest thing I have read in a while.... Haha!!!!!! I'm gonna make the hubby read this one for sure!

Laura said...

Redhead, I told you not to be so funny! I laughed until I cried. It sounds just like Husband.

Cindy said...

I am saving this one to re tell at my birthday dinner this evening. Too funny, and he is exactly like his father...if you ever need to discuss the Rhead quirkiness, I've lived with one for 30 years.

The redhead said...

So glad I can use the Husband to make people laugh.

Laura-Are you sure crying is the only thing that happened?

Cindy-30 years of quirkiness! You should have a gold mine of material.

Rainee said...

lol that's so funny. Thanks for sharing.

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