June 26, 2007

just when I'm convinced he's not gay

Yes, I'm talking about hubby. DH. Dear Husband. (sometimes) Damn Husband. Steve. The Limey. Love of my life.

I often tease Steve that he must be gay... this man has more decorating finesse than Christopher Lowe (is he even still around?). Can cook and organize a kitchen meaner than Martha. The first time he visited my home, he went out to the garage, found a couple of boxes, off to the fabric, yes, I said fabric, store to get some scraps to drape over the boxes to use as (really cool) end tables. I resigned my position in the kitchen when, after he was here about 6 months, my oldest looked up from a nicely prepared-by-Steve dinner and said, "Mom, do you know how to cook anything that doesn't come out of a box?" (must remember to thank her for that later!)

He and I both laugh and joke about his sexuality quite a bit. We both know that he is 100% straight, but, there are times...

So, last night, we were laying in bed, chatting as we usually do, about to drift off to sleep when The Limey had a bit o' wind. Wait, I stand corrected... a LOT o' wind ('wind' being his polite English term... we know what wind is, but around here, we call it gas, or more bluntly, he ripped a big 'un!). He is, afterall, a guy... they don't hold their bodily functions in very well, as we all know... but, I must say here that he is always, without fail, very polite and always follows a fart or burp with a "Pardon me!" sometimes proceeded with an "Oh, dear!" (see... told ya he's gay!)

Ok, back to last night... farts in bed... apologizes... then, we start giggling. It was a funny fart. We all have those now and again... the ones that just sound so unusual, you just have to laugh. So, we're laughing and I say, "Jeez, we could put you in the middle of an orchestra with that one!".

Now, most hetro men, at this point, would just bask in their windy glory. Laugh a little bit more, then probably fall asleep, only to do it all again, sans the laughing and pardoning, in their sleep. Not my guy...

He says to me, "It wouldn't tune to the A-440." (my apologies to Steve, as I'm sure I got that wrong)

Excuse me? The "A" WHAT???

Then he goes on to explain to me how orchestras tune to the A above middle C... mmm-hmmm... riiiiiight, Honey (he's really startin' to scare me at this point)... Yes. And they use 44o mega hertz. But, usually, pianos can't get to 440 mega hertz because their strings would be too tight, so they go down to 438 or 436...

(this explanation went on for quite a while... he lost me at "orchestras tune").

I love him. I really do love him.


Steve said...

Steve <-- secure enough to wear pink


Believer in Balance said...

That story is so funny! My hubby lets 'em rip in bed too. If he's semi-conscious he'll mumble an "excuse me," but often I just have to listen to his personal gas symphony!

Day Dreamer said...


There should be a pink shirt under the tree this year? If not...I'm off to the store!


Giggles and snortles abound!

Always laugh at the fabric / box thing!