Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Reasons Men Die Before Women

Reasons men die younger than women.


For one, remember the other day when the Center of the Universe (CoTU) nearly walked headlong into a pillar during our mall walk? He was leering at a slutty-looking young woman dressed in high-heeled boots, skin-tight jeans and a clingy sweater. She was strutting over to the “Coffee Cart” when we were coming around the bend of our second lap.

Fast forward to yesterday… CoTU and I are rounding that same bend at the mall, pumping our arms, trying to rev up the old metabolism. The doctor’s chart may not consider either one of us to be officially overweight, but we both feel better and look better with about ten fewer pounds on us.

We can smell the pastries as we approach the Coffee Cart, and CoTU begins veering over toward the counter, craning his neck like a giraffe.

“They don’t set out free samples any more, remember?” I told him. “Besides, even if they did, you’re not exactly a customer at the moment. Not to mention your new-found commitment to a diet.” (I’m maybe a little too helpful on this topic.)

“Er… Um… I wasn’t… I’m not… Yeah, that’s it—I’m not looking for samples—I was looking for that hottie we saw last week.”

Great. I can only shake my head in amazement. Next time I’ll let him walk into the pillar.



This morning he comes home from a meeting. “You’ll never guess who I ran into,” he challenges me. For once, I don’t even have a guess, and I’ve been known to pull some of these out of thin air, like a little spurt of e.s.p.

“Susan Grant, from the office.” (The office they both worked in for a long time; he’s retired, she’s moved on.)

“Cool,” I said. We both always liked her. “How’s she doing?”

He gave me a full run-down on her job and her family.

“How does she look?” I asked.

“Old and big,” he supplied, with his usual absence of tact.

“Really? Bigger than me?”

He looked kind of shocked, scrunched up his eyebrows, shaking his head as if to say, “Geez, no one would describe you as ‘big’.” Then he caught himself just in time to pull off the gag, and said, “No, no way.”

Before the words were completely out of his mouth he was laughing so hard he couldn’t inhale. Even I had to laugh. Then I hit him with a skillet.


11 comments:

  1. lol that was a great story, thanks for the laugh! :)

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  2. I find that most of life's problems can be solved by hitting your significant other with a frying pan

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  3. laughed so hard it made me cry!!! i love it! does he had a BIG knot????

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  4. I once got ready for a night out in a pretty rust coloured dress. I said to Craig, "How do I look?" He said, "Honestly?" I said, "Obviously." And he said, "The dress, it kind of, it looks like, well, it reminds me of poo."
    I had 10 seconds to change, and to tell him to always remember - When in doubt - LIE.

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  5. I'm cracking up at this story and the comments! if you want a spiffier design on your blog - I have a link to the person who designed mine on my sidebar. Extremely creative and easy to work with if you're interested. Highly recommended.

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  6. Hilarious. You're making me spill my drink...

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  7. What a wonderful blog. Led here by Nancy at f8hasit (you and I seem to be members of the Nancy admiration society). You make me laugh. Thanks!

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  8. Oh...so THAT'S what a skillet is really for! lol

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  9. Hey Leah,

    I popped over from Nancy's blog and glad that I did, I really have enjoyed what I have seen so far and hope to stay out of the swing of the skillet.

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