Funny Guy Friday… This. Means. War.

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So… I married a funny guy...
     Several months ago, I went to the drug store with a singular mission in mind… to buy myself a hair brush. I did not need anything fancy, just a brush that I could call my own.
     You see, every morning, I would wake up, get in the shower, wash my hair, towel dry and then blow dry my hair. Time after time, when I would go to dry my hair, the brush I had used the previous day was no longer where I had left it. This would give rise to the naked hunt for the stolen brush. I had gotten tired of the naked hunt.
     Once I purchased my brush, I announced to the family that this was my brush and it was not to leave my bathroom. I even thought about getting one of those little chains that the bank uses to keep people from stealing its pens, but I was afraid it would limit my brushing range. Besides, I felt that my special announcement was enough to carry the day.
     For several months, things went as planned. The brush resided in the bottom drawer of my vanity and was there at the ready. Life was good. Life was peaceful.
     Until this week!!!!
     On Monday morning, I woke up, got into the shower, washed my hair, towel dried my hair and then went to blow dry my hair… no brush. How could this be? I made my announcement and everything.
     The hunt was back on and I immediately went to my first suspect, Gracie.
     My baby girl looked so sweet and innocent snoozing away with her covers all snug and tucked under her chin. I stood there and looked at her for a few seconds, remembering the good old days when I would come home from work and she would entertain me with her rendition of a new cute song accompanied by a twirling dance. Or she might dazzle me with her vast knowledge of colors or letters of the alphabet. She was so smart, so cute and so talented. As I lovingly watched her sleep, I could hear my little girl belting out a chorus of The cannibal king with the big nose ring, fell in love with the dusty mai-ai-aid… or Twinkle, twinkle little star. 
     I was thinking how I love her more than words can say!
     And then I saw it.
     That little witch stole my hair brush!
     This act of insubordination was akin to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand. You remember that… it started World War I. This war was on, and Grace would soon find out that if you take one of mine, I'll take two of yours.
      I rescued my brush from enemy grounds, and under the cover of early morning darkness, while the opposing army slept, I took both her blow dryer and her curling iron.
     As I completed my mission, I was greeted by my lovely wife. As is the case with all great Generals, the support of family is crucial. In some ways, having Cheryl as an ally was instrumental to the success of this mission. I eagerly explained Grace's act of war and my counter attack. As I spoke, I could hear a confident, diabolical laugh rising up from within me. Okay, it was more of an amused giggle, but it was a confident, amused giggle.
     My lovely wife's reaction was a bit unexpected, and by unexpected, I mean completely expected. She was not supportive at all. In fact, she called me a name and told me that my idea was ridiculous. I quickly responded with Nuh-uh… besides... she started it!
     So now it was clear, I was on my own. But I was not deterred. I have done stuff without Cheryl's support in the past (nothing immediately comes to mind, but I am sure that I have). I placed the stolen items in my room and advised my Benedict Arnold of a wife that if she knew what was good for her, she would remain neutral. I was not above taking her stuff, if need be.
     I left for work that morning with only one regret. I wish I could have been there when Grace finally woke up and discovered that her stuff was missing. I was sure that there would be wailing in the streets and gnashing of teeth when she discovered that she was going to be inconvenienced and that she was going to have to travel half-naked down the hallway. I love the smell of desperation in the morning; it is the smell of victory. I was sure that she would call my office waiving the proverbial white flag.
     I would have to wait until mid morning to get my response. It was not the lily-livered response that I was looking for. In fact, the message that she posted on my Facebook page was a bit shocking. THIS. MEANS. WAR.
     I don't think she had really thought this through. I have tons of stuff at my disposal, and she has just a few items that are in her bedroom. If I stole two of her things to every one she stole from me, this war would be over in ten days. This was like a fly declaring war on the swatter……unless, of course, she had something else in mind.
     I got home early that day and found her lying on my bed playing on her ipod. I snuggled up next to her and she ignored me, continuing to play on her ipod. One would think that this was part of her strategy, ignoring her enemy, but I knew better. She ignores me while playing on her ipod even in times of peace.
     I broke the ice and asked how school went that day, and she advised that she still had some work to do. This begged the question Then why are you lying on my bed playing with your ipod? 
     As principal of our little home school, I advised her that it was in her best interest to get up and get back to work. As she left the room, she turned and she smiled. She never looked prettier. How could someone so sweet and so innocent be involved in this type of ugly struggle? Is it possible that I have overblown this hairbrush thing? Then with a twinkle in her eye, she said, I like home school a lot better when the principal is not home! 
     Ouch! A dagger.
     Maybe her strategy has nothing to do with taking any more of my stuff. Maybe she is content to break my heart. Again, I quickly responded, Oh yeah?… well… then... you uh… can… uh... quit home school and go back to that public school! 
     This immediately made me think of two things. First, I need to work on my comebacks. And second, Grace and I both knew that the public school comment was just an idle threat. You see, Grace still has a mother, and I still have a wife, and both her mother and my wife are very happy with the whole home school thing.
     My heart can't take this. This war has to end.
     I consulted Cheryl on an exit strategy. Buy Grace a hairbrush! she advised.
     That's it? I buy her a hairbrush. Good thing that Cheryl is not in charge of our foreign policy, or we wouldn't try to stop Iran from developing atomic weapons; we would just give them some of ours. No, I can't buy her a hairbrush… but Cheryl could.
     Of course, this would require some back room negotiations and would have to be done without my knowledge or consent. This could work… but the brush could not be traced back to my administration. I advised Cheryl to use cash to purchase the brush but not my cash. I needed plausible deniability. She would have to borrow the money from Matthew.
     I was sure that peace was just around the corner with Grace.
     Unfortunately, it seems that there's another battle brewing on a different front.
     Yesterday, I was lying on my bed, minding my own business, when Noah came running out of my bathroom waving my hairbrush in the air as he ran into his room, yelling, What you gonna do now, Daddy? 
     We are one step away from a nuclear option. NO HAIR, NO BRUSH!
     That's right... I shave everyone bald and nobody needs a brush. A bit drastic, but it ensures the peace for the rest of our lives… unless something else were to come up that would cause a conflict in our family.
     Nah, what are the chances of that happening. I mean seriously... what could be more important than a hairbrush?

Funny Guy... Saturday?... Better late than never...

Funny Guy Friday is written by my husband Mark... So, I married a funny guy...

     For five straight years, every week, I wrote a little blurb about the goings on in the lives of the Palumbos. Topics would range from the time that I shot Noah in the rear end, how Matthew hated the Pope, or the hairbrush wars with Gracie.

     The way it worked was that something would strike me as funny, I would think about it for a day or two, spend a day or two writing a draft and then Cheryl would edit it. By editing it I mean she would make the necessary grammatical corrections and take out the really funny stuff that she thought might offend her family… and her family can be so sensitive.

     I had a formula that varied from time to time but basically, it included 80% truth, 15% exaggeration and 5% complete fabrication…. And 100% funny.  Would have been 105% funny if not for Cheryl’s family.

     Historically, no matter what havoc I may have created, I ended up being the hero. Cheryl, on the other hand, was blamed for all the bad stuff that happened.  Anyway, some weeks were easy, other weeks were a struggle… but I managed to churn something out week after week.

    During this Cal Ripken like stretch, people would approach me and ask if they were going to be in it and I would always tell them “sure… Do something stupid.” But mostly it, it was about my kids. They were all good sports and never asked me to keep their most embarrassing moments private.

     Then like Forrest Gump running cross-country, I just stopped. And that's all I have to say about that.

     Since I retired, hundreds of people… maybe not hundreds but many people… by many, I mean over ten… okay, it is three…  three people have asked that I resurrect Funny Guy Friday. Up until now, I have dismissed the urge to return. After all, Jordan returned and was a shell of himself, Ali returned and got beat up by Larry Holmes, Bjorn Borg returned and got his wooden racquet shoved up his rear by a bunch of teenage girls swinging titanium.

     So why will my return be any different?

     There are two possible reasons… First, I am a superior human with a superior intellect.

     Or it could be that I am not a superior human with a superior intellect at all but instead, just some guy who sits on his couch and thinks of stupid stuff and then types. Those other guys performed super-human physical feats... and just got old. This happens to all great athletes, with the possible exception of Tom Brady. Writing FGF is not exactly the most physical event in the world. In fact, at this very moment, I am eating a caramel cream and a bag of chips.  I somehow doubt that caramel creams and potato chips were on the Jordan, Ali, Borg diets.

    So without any further fanfare, I am announcing my return. Going to try and write something each week. It is going to be tougher to come up with stuff because Grace is married and living in Texas, Matthew is in college and Noah… well, Noah may just be goofy enough to carry me through most weeks.  

    Some of you may be asking yourself why. Why now?

    To be honest, I am feeling my mortality. My kids are getting older… my daughter is married and someday will have my grandkids. I may not be around to tell them how nutty Grandma Weezer or Geezer (I just made that up but I think it is a name that might stick) is and how I manage to solve all of her problems. I also need to let my grandkids know how cool I am/was… and if I don't tell them, who will.  And I will do so with a completely accurate depiction... with only 15% exaggeration and 5% total fabrication.

    Just a quick note to start the comeback… I hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day. I remembered it was Valentine's Day when I was driving to court and one of the attorneys in my office called me and said Happy Valentine's Day!

     The typical response is Happy Valentine's Day to you too.  My response was OH CRUD! (okay… it could have been stronger than Crud) I completely forgot and did not say anything to Cheryl this morning.

     Then it dawned on me that Cheryl didn't say anything to me either so if I can get off the phone and call her before she calls me, I can beat her to the punch and feign irritation at the fact that she forgot to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day. The best defense is a good offense.

     Hey Weezie, you forgot to wish me a Happy Valentine's Day this morning, what's up with that?  

     I know, you ran out to your car and I thought you were coming back into the house. I waited but you never came.

     Okay, for the record, I called you first… Because I remembered… before you… I win Valentine’s Day.

     Whatever. I have a surprise for you when you get home.

     Oh yeah, well I got all kinds of surprises for you too!  I didn't really. In fact, I had nothing because I had forgotten.

     I felt kind of bad and it didn't get any better when all of the secretaries in our office kept getting roses from their sweethearts. I’m better than those guys, most of whom I have never met, and they remembered.

    I mentioned to the ladies in the office that I may have… kind of… maybe forgot it was Valentine's Day. One of them said it was because you don't have to remember, you're happily married so every day is Valentine's Day!

   Finally, someone who gets it! My wife is so lucky to have me!

   I decided that I was going to use this line but quickly realized by the reaction of every girl in my office that she was not being serious and no woman would ever buy that nonsense. Things were so bad that one of the gals offered me one dozen of her TWO dozen roses that she received from her hubby.

   You got two!  Did he do something wrong or something?

    I couldn't accept her generous offer to re-gift her flowers but I still needed to get Cheryl something. Then it dawned on me… we went out to dinner about a month ago and Cheryl ordered a drink that she loved. I took a picture of the table and had the ingredients somewhere on my phone with the two specific types of alcohol used in the drink. I went to buy them on a previous occasion…but they were both too expensive... so I didn't.  I substituted cheaper stuff but the drink wasn't the same. I love my wife but I have my financial limits.

    Well, I rationalized my overspending on alcohol by noting it is Valentine's Day… And I do love her… And I have no other ideas. It was decided, I was willing to break the bank. Bonus… It looks like I actually noticed something insignificant... like a drink she liked… and then went to the trouble of remembering the ingredients.

    I truly am the best husband ever!

    When I got home, the house smelled delicious. Cheryl and Noah were cooking an Italian meal and the theme from the Godfather was playing on the radio, or google or Alexis or whatever. My favorite wine was chilling and a fresh baguette of Italian bread sat on the table. Things were looking good.

    Cheryl handed me a scroll with the best lines from my favorite movie, The Godfather. She recorded both Godfather I and Godfather II and we were going to watch the movies that night. This was huge because she hates these movies. She claims they are the most violent movies ever. I counter that the Home Alone movies are more violent and Michael Corleone is simply misunderstood. Anyway…

   She planned this fun Godfather themed night with all my favorite things. I anticipated Noah getting whacked at some point in the evening but luckily, that never happened.

   Two things went through my mind. First, I am going to have a great night! Second, Cheryl is going to be happy that I bought her the booze.

   We ate our Caesar salad, our bread, and our ravioli. We drank the whole bottle of wine, which is unusual for us. After dinner, she broke out tiramisu, a cannoli and almond cookies for dessert.

    At this point, Noah made her favorite drink from the Ginger liquor and whiskey that I bought and then we retired to the living room with every intention of watching the movies. Then a funny thing happened… We took our respective spots on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

    This happens pretty much every night at our house. I fall asleep next to my lovely wife, my most favorite thing in the world. So, as it turns out, this year's Valentine's Day was not unlike most nights at our house… except we may have had more to drink than we usually do. And my one secretary was correct…

    I am happily married so every day is Valentine’s Day!

    My wife is so lucky to have me!

    

Funny Guy Friday... Happy Anniversary...

     Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband Mark. So, I married a funny guy...
     I had forgotten all about it, but Cheryl reminded me.
     It's easy to forget about anniversaries when you get bogged down with day-to-day events. You start running kids to games, doing household chores, going to meetings, and attending school functions and the days slip by.
     But you would think that something that I love... and frankly work hard at every week.... would never be forgotten.
     There were no gifts exchanged, no special dinners. In fact, Cheryl and I barely saw each other on this special occasion.
     I am about to share something that I have never told anyone before...
     When this whole thing started, neither Cheryl nor I could have ever dreamed it would last this long. Like many relationships, it started out with a blaze. It was easy. It was fun. It was exciting. Both of us would agree that I did most of the work, but we loved working together, side by side, building something that would last.
     For a while, we did grow closer and closer with each and every collaboration.
     But like most things, the newness wore off.
     There were weeks when it seemed to be more of a burden than it was worth. This may come as a shock but this is cathartic for me to finally write this and put it out in the open... there were some days that we even discussed calling it quits.
     As God is my witness, this is true!
     I would get frustrated and Cheryl seemed more than willing to give it all up.
     The thing that always kept us going was the kids.
     We both agreed that we had to set an example of perseverance. So we continued to work together, and we are hopeful that everyone appreciates the work that we do.
     Of course, I am talking about May marking the fifth anniversary of Funny Guy Friday. Technically, Cheryl started her blog near the end of April and introduced me, but my first actual post was in May.
     That is right boys and girls, this is the fifth year of my writing... and Cheryl editing... FGF.  Have not missed one week in five years. Two-hundred and fifty or so weeks of writing this stupid blog post! That is Ripken-like!
     Let that marinate for a second...
     For 250 straight weeks I have had to take some mundane event that happened and make it funny. You try making a trip to Toys R Us to buy batteries funny. You try to find humor in having the talk with your 12-year-old son. You try to make merry with your baby boy getting smacked in the face with a watermelon rind. Or your daughter stealing your hairbrush.
     It ain't easy!
     Please do not send me any gifts to mark this great milestone. Your laughter is all the reward I will ever need... although a gift certificate to Ruth Chris Steakhouse would be sweet!
     Oh, and before I forget, Happy Anniversary to my lovely wife.
     It was April 25, 1992, when we tied the knot. Engaged after six weeks of dating, and not once in twenty three years have I ever doubted my decision to spend my life with Cheryl!
     Hey, wait a second. You know if you read the beginning of this, you might have thought that I was talking about our marriage and not my FGF milestone.
     Puhhh-leeeeze... if you think that Cheryl and I ever sat and discussed ending our marriage, you have never met my wife.
     One day, Noah and I were watching a Japanese advertisement promoting marriage. At the beginning of the ad, a gentleman is sitting with his wife at a restaurant and slides divorce papers over to her, as if he were giving her a business proposal. She looked at the papers and her eyes teared up.
     I turned to Noah and asked, What do you think Mom would do if I ever took her out to dinner and slid divorce papers over to her?
     She would slide them back and say..."No. Just No! Put those papers away and order some food... we aren't getting divorced! One of us has to pick up Matthew in twenty minutes so hurry up!"
     Noah knows his mother well!     
     So two big milestones this week. Five years of Funny Guy Friday and twenty-three years of wedded bliss... well, mostly bliss!
     I must admit that one is much easier than the other!
     You know, the more I think about it, five years of FGF may not warrant a great steak dinner, but twenty-three year of marriage may!
     Forget what I said about your laughter being the only reward that I need... I need a good steak dinner.
     Just for fun, I may draw up some divorce papers and in the middle of our meal, slide them on over to my bride. It could make for a funny story!!!