AKA

Endless Fun with your Wife #83291

TCWH (picture me bewildered, as dh strolls out the door, golf apparatus in hand, to HIS JOB. Which definitely requires NO golf, and therefore no APPARATI.): Why are you taking your driver to work?

Dh (pausing in door to grin impishly and dodge my words): I'm not taking my driver to work.

TCWH (exasperated, because I don't know what that damn thing in his hand his called - I know, I know, not so different from any other given time at our house, but...- and I KNOW HE KNOWS what I am TALKING ABOUT! I am watching him swing it!): Well, that thing. In your hand. I know it's not a driver, but it IS a golf club, and why are you taking it to work?

Dh (ever so patient with his golfentically challenged wife): It's not a thing. It's a (good lord I have forgotten what he called it. Wood? Iron? It's a Titleist. I know that, and it matches his HUGE driver.)________.

TCWH INTERNAL MONOLOGUE (which I often fall into when I am trying to communicate in 'man'.): Well, EXCUUUUSSSSSE Me. I know you know what I'm talking about, and there you go, just pretending you don't because you're pretending to get all caught up in semantics. Or linguistics. Or pedagogy. SHIT! I have forgotten the English language because I have been working with kids too damn long. I'm lucky I can even spell the word 'computer'. What was I talking about? Where IS he going with that damn driv...er club?

TCWH (external attempt at dialogue): HEY! Where are you going!

Dh (having escaped the overcurious jaws of me): BYE!

It's all fun and games, kids.

All fun and games.