Welcome to Post Traumatic Tuesday which, in this case, is a column written during my first marriage. This post isn’t about venting or vindictiveness but, rather, about reflecting on an unhappy marriage in the best way I know how: Through humor.
I have now been happily re-married for the last 16 years to someone who constantly inspires me to laugh for the right reasons.
Now, we can all laugh together…
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I have a favorite pair of jeans I refuse to give up and which, over the last few years, my wife has attempted to eradicate on six different occasions. She hates these jeans because, according to her, they are “ripped, frayed and embarrassing.” Particularly when I forget to change them before going out somewhere in public, such as our front yard. Her attempts to get rid of my jeans have escalated from them being “lost,” to an incident last week in which she claimed my jeans “spontaneously combusted,” forcing her to put out the flames with the nearest extinguishing device: A meat cleaver.
She later apologized for hacking my jeans, telling me she reacted instinctively to a dangerous situation. I told her I understood and that, instinctively, I planned to continue wearing my newly perforated jeans — at least until the remaining threads give way to the force of gravity and I am suddenly de-pantsed.
Probably while raking the yard.Continue reading If the jeans fit, wear them! (at least until your legs go numb)