Note to self: Never again iron clothes while standing in a puddle of water, naked. The jolt of electricity sent me across the room, where I took out a dining room table leg and two ribs. Oh, and the hot iron made a nice impression on the floor. Plus you can see me on Dateline soon because my landlord is going to kill me.
My wife Heather works full time now because I can’t do shows or work at a regular job anymore. So I get up early to start the coffee, iron her clothes, get her medicine out and pack her lunch. Since I stay home and write, I think it’s the least I can do to say thank you for going to work everyday.
When I tell people that, they always tell me what a great husband I am. I say, “Wait a minute. These trivial tasks take all of about 45 minutes. She’s going to work for eight hours!” I know! She’s the terrific one. What makes me a good husband is not breaking things while she’s gone all day.
What can I say? I get bored. Once, it was snowing and I really wanted to pitch baseballs so I hooked up my pitching machine in the entry way. I put up netting to catch the balls, but didn’t think about foul balls backward. I took out two lamps, a picture window and some china. Now the only thing I break is an occasional game record on my phone.
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