The Missus Chronicles #1: The Blind Milkshake

The missus was cleaning out the closet under our stairs. That's where we keep old shoes, boxes, dead bodies, and other miscellaneous things we don't often use in the house. When I got home, the missus told me that I had several pairs of old shoes we should just get rid of.

missus: Let's just give them away. The only problem is that we don't know anyone who has feet as big as yours.

me: We could have a yard sale. I already have a jingle in mind. It goes like this:

My shoes bring all the boys to the yard.
And they're like, bigger than yours
Damn right, bigger than yours
I can fit you but I would have to charge.

I start laughing, she isn't.

me: What? You don't know Milkshake?

She gives me a blank look.

missus: Milkshake?

me: Never mind.

She resumes her rant.

missus: I had a hell of a time moving out all your shoes. They're heavy as hell. I never really appreciated why people ask you to take off your shoes when you get on a weighing scale until now. Ordinary people would have to take off a couple of pounds for their clothes and shoes when they get on a scale. You would probably have to take off half a dozen pounds.

me: Quit it. Besides, now that you mention it, it's probably the only heavy lifting I ever do.

I was playing around with a fancy pen someone gave me while we were having this conversation. I liked the way it felt as I used it to write. I have awful penmanship. I was writing down random things trying my best to write nicely. I wrote down the following:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
if you were reading this, and didn't know any better
you'd think I was blue.

The missus looks over my shoulder, read what I was writing down. She takes my pen from me, crosses out the word 'blue' and replaces it with the word 'blind'. She laughs hysterically.

*sigh* Some people run and hide from their bullies. I apparently married mine.