"Sponge"Bob gets the third degree
“Sponge”Bob gets the third degree
I went to my buddy’s house the other night for dinner. I throw a couple of home-brews in the Jeep to give to my hosts and head over. As usual when I arrive, I pop my shoes off, and make myself at home. 10 minutes later, his dog is puking on my foot. Ever felt warm dog puke on your socked foot?
We get through dinner, and my buddy remembers he has some touch-up work to do on his shower floor. Here is the conversation he and his wife had as closely as I can remember it.
Him: Hey honey, do you have an old sponge I can use? I need to do some touch up work on the shower floor.
Her: I have this new sponge. Why do you need a sponge?
Him: I need an old sponge to finish the shower with
Her: Why do you need a sponge?
Him: To spread the coating with.
Her: I thought you’d use a paintbrush.
Him: No. The directions said “a sponge or rag”.
Her: Did you read the directions?
Him Yes.
Her: With your glasses on?
Him: Do you have an old sponge I can use?
Her: I have this new sponge. Are you sure you don’t need to use a brush?
At this point, I’m trying my best to keep my mouth shut. Correct me if I’m wrong here, please. All he was asking for was an old sponge. Not a swatch of silk. Not her fine china. And old sponge.
I’m also thinking “Thank God I’m not married!!!”
Her: Well, there is an old sponge below your sink.
Now, why couldn’t we have started there? He didn’t demand a sponge. He nicely asked if there was on old one.
My tongue now bleeding from biting it, I couldn’t help myself. I jumped into the fray with both feet. I might have gotten “the look” from his wife, but her mother happened to be there too. Seems she was as confused as I was about the whole “Do you have a sponge” dance we’d just witnessed. Not often the in-laws are on the husbands side.
Epilogue
My buddy forwards the rough draft of this to one of our secretaries who jokes around with us all the time. Her take? “(The wife) was definitely right. I don’t see the problem here.”
And people ask why I’m not married. It’s simple: When there’s a rulebook so that I can to know when I’m right (I’ll pause for laughter) and when I’m wrong, I’ll consider putting on the cleats and getting in the game. =-)
posted by Dan @ 7:59 PM
4 comments
4 Comments:
Amen Brother:
I watch my married friends and it seems they have 3 modes:
1: Complete silence...it's like that line from "angel from Montgomery" about coming home in the evening and having nothing to say.
2: The Jerry Springer show mode...enough said.
or 3: the feigned politeness mode; where you just know that whats running around their heads is about opposite of what they're saying.
On top of that women can't stand to see a happily unmarried guy, it's like a subliminal threat to them. They automatically figure deep down your miserable and try to fix you up with their twice divorced friends.
Don't get me wrong, vaginas are pretty cool...it's the people who come attached to them that defy logic.
Salmon
Well, enjoy your life as a monk.
There is no rule book, but with experience you can recognize situations such as this before they progress to the shouting phase.
Then you find the sponge on your own. You throw it away when you're done, so if it's the wrong one you can claim she lost it and buy her a new sponge. (She will of course not witness you using the incorrect sponge because you used the universal wife repellent, the phrase: "I'll going to work on something."
I can see a bitter custody battle over the sponge looming if they ever split...
Yeah...
Quite a dopey conversation.
Where you been ???
No update forever.
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