Sorry, but I’ve just got to say that again.
‘The Collected Works of Colonel Ludwig Van Monkeyhammer’.
I sat in the car with wifey this morning and started laughing so hard I almost choked. When she asked me what was so funny, I replied between sobs “Ludwig Van Monkeyhammer”. She stared at me as though a small Chinese gooseberry bush was growing out of my ear. I still verge on dissolving into a gibbering mess when I say it out loud to myself.
This morning we were running late. We were running late because of wifey’s pregnant brain (the brain belonging to pregnant wifey, rather than the pregnant brain belonging to wifey, you understand.) It is a recognised phenomenon that pregnant women start to suffer mental malfunctions, forgetfulness, indecision and so on (to which I refer as Cheesing of the Brain.) But wifey was, at times, pretty random before the blessing of growing a small me within her.
Yesterday she brought in her very important work ID pass for schools (without which, as an adult in a school she will naturally be assumed to be a child-molestor in these saddening days) and because she knew she would very much need it today, she put it ’somewhere safe’. This information she relayed to me this morning as we were searching high and low for the damn thing. Yes she’d lost it. As soon as I heard the magic words ’somewhere safe’ I started searching all the appropriate places (up the dog’s butts, in the biscuit tin, under the kettle and in the fridge to name but four.) You see, ’somewhere safe’ is the mythical realm where important things go to die. If wifey puts anything ’somewhere safe’, I immediately get in contact with the bank, DVLA, government or whomever and report it lost and order a new one. In some cases she put important things ’somewhere safe’ in the previous house and even though when we moved we checked everything as we packed and left an empty shell of a building, said items still never turned up.
I digress, but at least I digress on the general point. And now I digress further to question whether it’s actually digressing if it goes in more than one direction. Am I now trigressing? Anyway…
So, because this was SUPER-important, I dropped everything (except my trousers as that wouldn’t really have helped at this point) and helped wifey in her search. We spent 20 minutes rummaging around the house, searching everywhere she’d been yesterday. I searched the car too, with its insane central locking. Unlocking the driver’s door unlocks the driver’s door; unlocking the passenger door unlocks the other three. Oh and we have two car keys but wifey has to keep both of them with her, as one works on the four main doors, but not on the boot (trunk), whereas the other only works on the passenger door and the boot, but not on the driver’s door. See how my life works? See?
Nothing in the car. No sign. No sign anywhere. We ran out of time to search any more. Had to rush around and get things done real quickly before we left. I walked the dogs, we got our collective sh*t together and left the house.
On the way out to the car, wifey stopped at the back gate and looked thoughtful for a moment. As I was about to question this behaviour, she reached into the wheelie bin (dumpster), moved aside two bags of assorted waste, and retrieved her work pass and database keyfob! I said nothing, just shaking my head and laughing throughout the journey.
All this, without a word of a lie!
When you combine the above with what you know of me, what chance does our child stand?
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