Monday, May 31, 2010

Don't Get Angry, Get Artsy

The other night, I was a bit perturbed with my husband. The question why is irrelevant. It was my innovative solution that's the focus here.

By the time the clock struck 8 p.m., he was passed out on our bed, snoring 10 decibels louder than his normal angelic sighs. After trying unsuccessfully to poke and prod him awake to give him an earful, I decided I needed to get creative. And by "creative," I mean, crayons.

I bounded with glee into the living room and pulled open the top drawer of our distressed wood wine rack. Hallelujah! A whole arsenal of pristine Crayola products, still untouched by baby hands. I decided a blue crayon might look nice.

I tiptoed up to my husband, who was lying on his side, half of his face exposed. The blue crayon made contact with his upper lip amidst my hysterics, but . . . damn it, it did not leave a mark.

Now, the average temporarily disgruntled wife might have thrown in the smock at that point, but clearly, I'm not average.

I skipped right back out to my stash and pulled out a washable Crayola marker made specifically for chubby baby hands. Green. That would make a nice moustache!

And, oh yes, it did. Not only did I design a gorgeous green moustache on my husband, but also some wiry whiskers on his one exposed cheek. He started turning over as I muffled my roars, doubled over by the bedside.

Then, I got crazy. I flicked on the bedroom light and whipped out my cell phone camera to try to preserve the evidence.

"Babe, stop! Whater you doing?!" he huffed sleepily, tugging the down comforter over his head.

The photo shoot did not go well despite my multiple attempts to capture his moustached mug shot. Hence, there is no photo to accompany this post, so you'll have to use your imagination, just like I did!

The following morning, I heard my husband in the shower forever. The thought of him wiping away the whiskers was as satisfying as a hot turkey sandwich and fries.

Finally, he emerged with a sly grin on his face.

"Babe, any idea how I got a green moustache and some sort of whiskers on my face last night?"

"You came home like that," I told him.

"Oh, really?"

"Yep, I guess your friends did it."

"Um hmmm," he smiled.

The truth was that getting artsy was the only thing that could get me through the night.

So, next time you contemplate going to bed angry, I recommend highly going to bed artsy instead. I think it could solve 99% of marital problems.

As for my husband, he now knows my Picasso pranks are not just empty threats. I have finger paints and playdoh just waiting to be cracked open and I just purchased a baby wiffle bat and a dozen water pistols "for the beach."

No comments:

Post a Comment