I do NOT loves me some wascally wabbits!!!

Ok, so John got home after working approximately 483 13 hours today. Here's the conversation we had about ten minutes after he walked in the door:

John: 'Ah, my dearest Brea, most precious, beautiful, and wise above all other women! How I have missed you in these long hours of our absence. How faired you and our lovely progeny on this day?'

(Ok, fine. What he really said was more along the lines of, 'Hey baby. Gah, I'm glad to be out of the store; my shift was crazy long. How was your day with the kids?' But come on. My translation sounded way better.)

Brea: 'I'm glad you asked; it was great! We accomplished a lot, caught up on school and laundry, shot the bows out back, got all our church clothes picked out ...' blah, blah, brag about productiveness, blah, blah, blah

John: 'Wow, that's impressive. The house looks great, by the way. Any reason for getting so much done?'

(I thought for about 3 seconds about being offended by that last comment, but seeing how he made an accurate observation, I decided to take the compliment and run with it.)

Brea: 'Ok, this might sound a silly ...'

(John raised his eyebrow at that.)

Brea: '... a little sillier than normal, but I had this dream last night, and I was taking names and kicking ass in the middle of this medieval battle ...'

(both eyebrows were raised after that)

Brea: '... ANYWAY, so when I woke up, I felt like listening to Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. So I did. I've always loved that one, and it set me in a very conquering mood, and I've decided I'm doing the same thing tomorrow. If it works, I'm totally adding it to my morning routine.'

John: 'The ride of the who the whaaaaaaaaa?'

Brea: 'Richard Wagner? German opera composer? Ride of the Valkyries? Any of this ringing a bell?'

John: (crickets started chirping)

Brea: 'Seriously? Um ... ok. Hold on, don't go anywhere.'

(I ran off to get my laptop, and pulled up Ride on YouTube, and played it for him.)

John: 'Oh, you mean Kill The Wabbit! Yeah, I know about that composer. You know, they used to play him at a lot of Nazi rallies. Hitler was a big fan of his.'

Brea: (long, chirping-filled pause as I tried to figure out which question to ask first) 'Whaaaa ... ? They did? He was? Wait, kill the wabbit? Dude, I'm not a Nazi!'

John: 'Chill. I didn't call you a Nazi. Come on, Kill The Wabbit! Bugs Bunny? Elmer Fudd? Any of this ringing a bell for you?'

Brea: (cricket noises swell to symphonic proportions)

John: (raises the eyebrow again)

Brea: 'Wait, the one where Elmer Fudd looks like a Viking trashcan? Yeah, I remember that one.'

John: 'Cool. I was getting worried that you hadn't heard of it.'

(I just looked at him for a minute.)

Brea: 'Isn't that supposed to be my line?'

So now, do I have shrill Valkyries screeching in German stuck in my head? Nooooooooo ... I've frickin' got frickin' Elmer Fudd singing frickin' 'kill the waaabbit! Kill the waaaaaaaaabbit!!' stuck on a terrible loop in my frickin' head. I liked it better when I was dreaming about opening up a can of medieval WHOOP ASS.

So now I just may have to kill John, and talking about putting a damper on my Mother's Day. 'No, officer, I haven't seen the tiny pieces of his body that I buried out back John this morning. I'm very confused, also!'

If he starts singing Rebecca Black's Friday (oh, yes, that's right. He does it to annoy me!) at any point tonight or tomorrow, IT'S ON.

I'm just saying.

Now where did I put that hacksaw ... ?

(No, I'm mostly probably totally kidding. Really. Promise.)

conversations with John

Random conversation that took place yesterday morning when I got off the phone with a friend of mine ...

Brea: Hey, when my fabulous and beautiful friend Liz gets a high-paying job in New York, can I go visit her and her husband Alex if she buys me a plane ticket? In like a year?

John: Hey, how come I'm never invited on these imaginary and/or hypothetical trips? Maybe I'd like to get a break from the kids and everything, too. Did you ever think of that?

B: No, actually. I didn't. You've never said one kind thing about New York, and you always make that scoffing noise when I bring up most places I'd one day like to visit.

J: Well, I'd at least like to be considered in your plans.

B: I do consider you when making imaginary plans. Someone has to stay with the kids.

J: You just thought to yourself that you consider me the babysitter, didn't you?

B: NO! I did not use the word babysitter in my head.

J: You're lying. But I don't care. And since when is Liz considering a job in New York?

B: Well, I don't think she actually is. It's been a bunch of talk so far. Then she calls me, and we make imaginary plans. Hey! Did I mention that she and another friend and I are going to Italy to celebrate our 35th birthdays? In like 2017?

J: Again I'm not invited?

B: On the Italy trip? Definitely not. It's a girls weekend.

J: How long of a girls weekend?

B: Um ... a two-week long one?

J: And I'm staying with the kids?

B: Uh huh. But tell you what. If Liz gets a high-paying job in New York and decide to spring for plane tickets for you and me, and I can get our moms to watch the kids, would you want to come with me to visit Liz and Alex?

J: I don't know. I don't think I could just let someone else buy me a plane ticket.

B: OMG(osh) THIS IS WHY I NEVER INVITE YOU ANYWHERE YOU INSANE REDNECK IN SHORTS AND WORK BOOTS AND TALL SOCKS AND A BAD HAT!!!!!! YOU MAKE ME COMPLETELY CRAZY, YOU KNOW THAT?!?!?!?????

B: It's cool, it's imaginary plans anyway. But your ass still isn't coming to Italy in 8 years, so deal with that now.

Conversations with John

"Hey, baby, do you want to be an organ donor?"

(glances suspiciously at me) "Why?"

"Oh, I dunno. I read an article about it the other day."

"I don't like it when you read. You start getting ideas. Next thing I know, you're going to be wanting to vote! And drive!"

"Yeah, I know. A woman's place is barefoot in the kitchen, not reading the newspaper. Sorry about that. Anyway, I want to be an organ donor. And I was wondering if you want to be one, too."

"Well, I guess. As long as I'm dead first."