My marriage has spice. There is no other way to describe it. 15 years later and I can still make him totally gasp and go all slack jaw with my inappropriate comments, the faces I make, even my tone on the telephone. One day I shall capture that picture, until then you will have to trust me that it’s worth seeing!
I was having another boring night at home, in between movies, and I was looking at Facebook on my phone when I saw the perfect picture for a guy that Roddy works with. So I grabbed it and sent it along. (You can view it here) I then had to message Roddy to tell him. It’s not what you think, it’s not a permission thing or anything like that, it has to do with what I call “Grid Mentality.” Picture this; a group of unsupervised boys with their minds in the gutter, shooting their mouths off, even wives and mothers aren’t safe in the conversation. I seem to be very well known around his work buddies because I am the wife who not only knows how to open the hood, but can do some minor repairs and maintenance on my truck. I love to fish, I love football and hockey. I can hold my own with most of the guys, but I am still a woman and I still bleed once a month and make sure everyone stays the fuck away from me.
Don't Say Truck
As I see his message come through the only truck I could think of was my little Ranger. I had completely forgotten his story he told me after work where he completely fucked up and filled up his gas work truck with diesel,and that I am not supposed to breathe a word of that to anyone on his team. (I blame it on my meds that my memory is slipping, as it started when I started taking them.) So I call him up to ask him what the fuck is this about a truck and he reminded of the story from earlier. Here is what the conversation went like after the truck story:
Me: Why do you think I am going to message Casey about something totally stupid that you did today? You do realize that I can hold a conversation with your Grid Monkeys without having to make fun of you. You know that 95% of the shit I make fun of isn’t about you.
Roddy: Yea, well….
Me: Seriously you have to learn that it’s not all about you! I thought we went over this shit a few years ago when I had to explain that it was all about me, remember? And you know what?
Roddy: Wait…
Me: No, you shut the fuck up. I’m going to hang up and send you a picture as my proof that’s it’s all about me, and you can thank your oldest for this. And when you get the picture you won’t text me back you WILL CALL ME back. Do you understand?
Roddy: Uhhh
Me: DO YOU UNDERSTAND? WTF REALLY?
Roddy: Yes, I will call you back
CLICK
Thanks, Marc 
Ring Ring
Me: Yeeeeeees?
Roddy: Utter silence. Slow breathing. Deep Breath. Ok, I surrender. I submit, I can’t compete with the proof that you showed me. I give up utterly and completely. I would please like an order of crow with a side of humble. HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO BEAT THAT? I’m done, you win.
Me: What the fuck is the fun in that? You can’t just give up like that? I know there is still fight in you babe! But, you know, IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU NOW IS IT?!? <mad cackle>
Roddy: Oh OK, really?! You won this fight, but you have not won the war!
Me: HA you admit that I won??
Roddy: Oh yes, you did win this one. And now I want you to sit there and relish in it, you be content that you have won this oh so tiny battle. But just you wait, I will get you when you least expect it!
Me: HA!! You can’t be more creative than the time I saran wrapped you coming out of the shower! There is no amount of shaving cream that will suffice. You won’t be crazy like me and bring a hose into the house. I have yet to see you pee into someones hat! (Oh my lord, what a fucking story that was, I might just have to post that small snippet of my mad skills!)
Roddy: Well, I can’t leave the seat up if there is no seat now can I?
Me: You wouldn’t?! You know that would fuck my knee up! The only time you ever got hurt during one of my pranks is when you flailed about trying to get out of the saran wrap! You can’t blame your stupidity on me!
Roddy: OK, I won’t touch the toilet seat, and I promise that I won’t even attempt anything on the phone with you tomorrow. Your birthday is off limits. However I have lots of time to come up with something when I get home. Shall we call a truce for your birthday then?
Me: Yea, I won’t say mean things to you that you can’t think of a comeback tomorrow. It’s supposed to be a happy day. I’m NOT 40 YET!!
Roddy: Clears throat. You just go relish in this, and go write on your fucking blog about it, so you can remember this day!
Me: You know, that’s an awesome idea. I think I will go do that now!
Roddy: Laughing hysterically. God, I love you! Now go write!
Me: I love you too!
I drank WHAT?? — Socrates. Uh huh…and your little dog, too.
I believe you had some WHINE with that crow