My husband thinks he is so funny. Thinks he is ROFL funny. I think he is chuckle, roll-your-eyes funny. But he totally cracks himself up – which ends up being super funny – so I guess he’s right.
But Tuesday night, when I came home from my very last ever master’s class? That night? Not funny. Though he would totally disagree with me on this.
I dropped my book bag (laptop bag – you know what I mean!) and waited for a “congratulations” for so long I finally had to ask for one. His response, “Didn’t you have an assignment for class tonight?”
Him: Is it done? Turned in?
Him: I’ll congratulate you when it is.
Me (stomping into my office to finish said assignment): Fine!
Me (stomping back into family room): Done.
Him: Well, we won’t really know if you passed the class until your grade comes in. I’ll congratulate you then. (chuckle, chuckle)
Straight A’s people – that’s how I roll. (Okay, okay, except for the one B+ that I can totally explain.) There is no real question about whether or not I will “pass” this or any other class.
He’s cracking himself up right now about that line and it’s been days since he said it. I’m exasperated and he’s laughing himself silly over how clever he thinks he is. And though I disagree with his level of cleverness, pretty soon, I’ll be laughing too because he just keeps laughing.
In a couple of days, when my A comes in, he’ll feed me some garbage about how he’ll congratulate me when he sees me in the cap n’ gown and when that happens, he’ll tell me he’ll wait until the degree comes in the mail. You’ve no idea his potential of dragging this out because of how funny he thinks it is.
In the meantime, he’ll listen rapturously to my graduation speech and take me out for a fancy dinner and buy me a gift. But he’ll hold on to the congratulations for as long as he can – because it’s his punchline. Bless his heart – my funny man.