Conversations with my wife: Yogurt Cups

Following my son’s lead, my wife recently discovered a taste for yogurt. The difference is that she didn’t suddenly dislike it as soon as we bought it and brought it home. My wife found a different problem with her yogurt. The little single-serving plastic containers that are tapered at the opening vex her to no end.

WIFE: I love this yogurt, but this container is making me so angry. I can’t get to all the yogurt inside. Seriously, how do you get all the yogurt out?

ME: Maybe you need a smaller spoon.

WIFE: If my spoon were any smaller, I wouldn’t be able to taste the yogurt on it. Look at all that yogurt hiding under the lip. Why do these things need a lip anyway? It’s not like they have a real top on them. It’s just a stupid piece of aluminum foil.

ME: Maybe the lip is there to compensate for the lack of a real top.

WIFE: Look at me, scraping around the sides of this thing. It makes me feel poor, like I’m some hungry beggar who found an open yogurt container alongside the road. And here I am, digging for scraps. This is pitiful.

ME: I think you missed a little bit, down in that dark corner.

WIFE: Oh my gosh, digging around this container is making me so hungry. I need to go get another one.

ME: I think you’ve just discovered the answer to why they make you work so hard for it.

WIFE: How many of these do I have to go through before I feel like I’ve gotten my 60 cents worth of yogurt?

ME: You should write the company and tell them they owe you a coupon for free yogurt to make up for all of it you couldn’t dig out of the cup.

WIFE: Good idea. You write the letter. I’ll mail it when you’re done.

ME: Why can’t you write the letter?

WIFE: Can’t you see how busy I am here?

Don’t go through our recycle bin looking for yogurt scraps. All you’ll find is the clean bones of tortured yogurt cups who paid the price for their reticence.


Conversations with my wife: Royal Deodorant

Wife: You know our William and Kate?

Me: Our William and Kate?

Wife: The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.

Me: Oooooh. Our William and Kate! Yes, of course.

Wife: Do you think they make a special, stronger deodorant for them?

Me: Why?

Wife: They do a lot of formal events. You know how when you go on a job interview, you get nervous and start to sweat a lot?

Me: If you had three job interviews a day, every day, I guess you wouldn’t sweat as much at them.

Wife: They must sweat a lot, with all those showers they make them take.

Me: I’m really not sure how many showers they are required to take.

Wife: Well, they have to change into a new outfit for every event.

Me: I didn’t know they had to take a shower every time they changed clothes.

Wife: And then, they’re always meeting with important people, and that’s got to make them nervous. Especially Kate, because she’s a commoner and not used to that sort of thing.

Me: At some point, she met the future king. If she’d had big, smelly sweat balls under her arms, he probably wouldn’t have started dating her.

Wife: But what about when they’re late and they have to run to catch their plane?

Me: I think the king’s plane will wait for the king.

Wife: Yes, but they still have to make it to their events on time. What if they’re late and they have to run to the plane to make their event on time?

Me: How often do you find yourself running late for an appointment?

Wife: All the time.

Me: And how many times do you find yourself running half a mile to make up the time? I’m sure they get dropped off closer to their destination than that.

Wife: I bet they do have some kind of special deodorant.

If our George and Mary, with all their hot fur and other dry-clean-only regalia, didn't need heavy-duty deodorant, why would anyone need it now?

Conversations with my wife: Prison

SETTING: We were watching a reality show about how people cope with their first week in prison. One of the subjects commented that he had been wearing the same clothes for a week.

WIFE: Oh my God! I can’t go to prison if they make you wear the same clothes for a week.

ME: Were you planning on going to prison?

WIFE: Only if you forget how to treat me right.

ME: Look at the bright side: you could learn how to make shivs and shanks.

WIFE: (scoffing) I already know how to make them. You file down your toothbrush. Anyway, if you were in prison, could you wear the same clothes for a week?

Prison Tip #1: When not being used to stab rivals, shivs and shanks are handy for darning socks. (Image via Wikipedia.)

ME: If I’m in prison, I think changing my clothes is the least of my concerns.

WIFE: You think that means they won’t let you take two showers a day?

ME: Probably not. And I wouldn’t want to take two showers a day in prison.

WIFE: Oh no! I would need my two showers a day.

ME: Maybe dirt is part of the punishment.

WIFE: I am not a good candidate for prison.

ME: Don’t let ‘em take you alive.

WIFE: I’m gonna have to do a really, really good job of hiding your body.

Incarceration: A fashionable alternative to the burdens of personal hygiene.

Conversations with my wife: “Montessori”

Nothing can give you a little taste of how we roll at my house like hearing it from our own lips. This is an actual conversation I had with my wife. Anyway, it the actual gist of a conversation we had. We had to let go the stenographer during the latest economic downturn.

Wife: I just called and got some information from the Montessori preschool.

Me: What do they do at Montessori school different from regular school?

Wife: The lady said it’s more of a hands-on experience. For example, they let them wash dishes themselves, instead of just telling them about how to wash dishes.

Me: They teach them to wash dishes?

Wife: Well, that’s just an example she gave.

Me: Washing dishes is what he’ll learn to do when he drops out of school.

Wife: It’s just an example.

Me: It’s called “on-the-job training.” He doesn’t need to learn that in school.

Wife: Honey, it’s just an example.

Me: People pay big money for them to teach toddlers how to wash dishes?

Wife: They do academics, too.

Me: Too? I want them to do academics, period.

Wife: You wash dishes. Don’t you think that makes you a more well-rounded person?

Me: I didn’t go to school for it. I learned to wash dishes when my mother parked my ass in front of the kitchen sink and dared me to take one step before the plates were clean.

Wife: Well, I don’t see you teaching him how to wash dishes.

Me: I will, when he can reach the sink.

Wife: The Montessori school has kid-sized sinks.

Me: Oh.


Education: You're soaking in it.