Just Kidding!

Friday, July 15, 2011

Sometimes Clayton and I are mean to each other just for sport.

It's not because we wish ill-will on one another. We just been together for such a long time that we know how to push each other's button without pushing them too hard.  And, as everyone knows, an annoyed spouse = great fun for everyone else involved.

Back in high school Clayton lived here in Bloomington and I lived in a tiny town in northern Indiana. Due to our long distance relationship, Clay and I didn't have typical "date nights" like other teenagers. Rather, when Clayton would make the three and a half hour drive to see me, he would spend the entire weekend at my house.  Sometimes in the summer, if our work schedules allowed, he'd be able to spend an entire week with me.

The first summer we were dating, Clayton came and stayed for a stretch of several days.  On the very last morning he was with us, I passed by the bathroom where he was standing at the sink brushing his teeth.  I stopped and poked my head in the door.  "Have you been using that toothbrush all week?" I gasped, wide-eyed.

With a foamy mouth Clayton replied cautiously, "Yeah ..."

"Um, you realize that's my sister's toothbrush right?"

Clayton didn't spit the toothpaste back into the sink so much as he coughed it out.  Frantic, he turned to me. "Are you serious?"  Then realization swept over his face. "Her and I have been using the same toothbrush all week!? I think I'm going to be sick."  Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he tried to shove past me. "She's going to be so grossed out. We have to go buy her another one."

I let him gather his wallet and truck keys before I finally broke the news to him that I was just yanking his chain.

We like to do this sort of thing to each other a lot.  I've actually lost count of the number of times I've convinced him that the kid at the drive-thru window forgot his food and let him turn the car around and start driving back to the restaurant before I tell him that I'm only kidding.



Two years ago on his birthday I convinced him that there was something wrong with my new Pontiac G6 and suggested that we switch cars for the day so he could figure out what was wrong with it.  There was nothing wrong with my car at all, but I just needed an excuse to drive his so that I could have it detailed for his birthday.  His car was in nasty shape.  There was so much crap in it, it looked like he was actually living in his car. My boss granted me an extra long lunch break which I used to wash, vacuum and polish his filthy vehicle.  After lunch I called Clayton "sobbing" and told him that his car, the one I was driving that day, was dead.  "It's just so strange," I wailed to him on the phone.  "You took my car to see what was wrong with it, but it's actually your car that had the problem ... and on your own birthday no less!" After a few more minutes of my Oscar-worthy monologue, Clayton said he would come pick me up from work and help me get his car towed.

When he arrived at my office, I met him at the door and said grimly, "Come on, I'll show you.  Your car won't even turn on.  I have no idea what happened to it."  Clayton sat down in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.  The car immediately sprang to life and that's when he realized that he was sitting in a fully-functioning, spanking clean automobile.  He looked around his car in shock. "How did you—"  I cut him off and gave him a kiss, "I love you! Happy birthday!"

Courtney for the win!

However, I'm pretty sure last night's episode pretty much tops them all.  Yesterday afternoon on my lunch break I noticed a giant bug crawling across our ceiling.  At first it looked like a centipede, but after closer examination, it appeared to be just some other type of giant, nasty bug.  Unfortunately, our living room ceiling is vaulted and I couldn't reach it with a broom.  I ended up just letting it be and figured that it would eventually leave or reveal itself at a much more convenient bug-killing location later.

After last night's softball game while I was taking a shower, I suddenly remembered the bug.  I mostly remembered thinking it was a centipede and how much the idea of a centipedes running loose in our house would bother Clayton.

"Hey, Clayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ...." I called from the shower.  "Did I ever mention to you that there was a centipede on the wall of the living room today?"

I heard a few rapid footsteps and then Clayton appeared at the shower.  "No...." he responded nervously.

"Oh," I said coyly. "Well, there was definitely a centipede on the wall of the living room today.  I didn't have time to kill it, but now it's not there anymore.  It's probably just roaming around the house somewhere else."

Clayton peeled back the shower curtain and peered in, suddenly looking more pale than I remembered. "Um ... what?" he said, his voice a bit high-pitched for a man of 25 years.

"And you know," I continued, rinsing shampoo out of my hair, "I read online recently that centipedes like moist places and are known to crawl around people's mouths while they're sleeping—especially people with ... beards."

Honest-to-goodness, Clayton's eyes were as big as dinner plates.  He brushed his fingers across his stubbled face cautiously and didn't say anything for several seconds.

That was too easy.



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