I love my wife. She is quirky and odd. Can you imagine me with anyone who isn't? The funny thing is most people don't see that side of her. They see her with her nose in a book or with a stack of papers to grade. I am going to take advantage of my blog stardom and expose the real Jazzy to the world.
Here is a conversation we had on IM. I was at work. She was home. I teased her about something. I can't remember exactly what, but I probably called her stinky or made fun of her inability to cook. I scribbled down everything that came after, thinking I would remember what instigated the conversation. I should have known my memory doesn't work that way. Here is what came right after the teasing:
Jazzy: i hat eyou/
Me: I hat eye you too dear
Jazzy: and i can't type
Me: Hat Eye, the Avenger!
Jazzy: Are you coming home to help me make dinner?
Me: Nope. You make dinner. I am avenging the wrongs with my haberdashery super powers of sight!
Jazzy: I have no idea what that means.
Me: Haberdashery? Google it.
Me: *waiting like three seconds for her to google it*
Me: Besides clothing, they made hats.
Jazzy: Why do you know these things?
Me: Because I am Hat Eye! Pay attention.
Jazzy: I do. You are just weird.
Okay. I know what you are thinking. This makes Jazzy look normal and me like a weirdo. But, would a normal person put up with me? I think not.
I've got a better example. I sat in the bath, playing with the bubbles and patting the water like usual. My wife wanders in as she does sometimes. Don't worry. This is not in any way dirty.
Jazzy: *wanders in singing* Lalalalla la...you're a firework.
Me: I'm a firework?
Jazzy: It's a song...
Me: *ignores that it's a song* What kind of firework am I?
Jazzy: Like...pfft pffft...*she puts her feet shoulder length apart, raises her hands, and shakes her fingers like sparks*
Me: So...I'm a lame firework?
Jazzy: *laughs and walks out of the bathroom*
Me: *bubbles are suddenly less fun*
See that. She is funny and goofy. You still don't believe me? Yes, you need more proof. One more funny story about my wife:
Me: *sleeping soundly and happily in on a day off*
Jazzy: *jumps on bed and tackles me* (I know you can't tackle someone who is laying down, but she still tried.)
Me: ummmffftt *half asleep*
Jazzy: Wake up, it's 8:30!
Me: *stretches and bumps her in the forehead with my elbow*
Jazzy: Ow. You smoke me in my pants! (I heard 'smote', but she claims she said 'smoke') *falls over laughing*
Me: Did you say 'I smote me in my pants'?
Jazzy: *rolls around the bed next to me laughing*
Me: *laughing* What is wrong with your brain?
Jazzy: *gasping for air while laughing* I don't know.
Odd, definitely odd to have those words come out of her mouth when she meant to say "Ow, you poked me in the face." I give you unavoidable proof that my wife's brain does not function. I was the one half asleep. She had been up for at least an hour. Jazzy, I love you. Stay weird. I need it to keep me sane.