Things that you never expect to happen in your life but now do because you are eternally joined with someone else, whose actions now directly affect you...
Having the keys to your honeymoon condo flung into the sewer on the very first day in Maine. Luckily the good folks of Portland Maintenance are friendly and showed up within fifteen minutes to fish them out. Thank you, John Emerson. We owe you a card. I also owe a future blog post the pictures I took. :)
Hearing "Thank you, Ms. Keng. Thank you, Mr. Keng" at the Safeway check-out line as we bought groceries last night; since I paid, my name came up on the bill. I giggled and pointed a finger at "Mr. Keng" all the way to the car.
Mostly, it's saying the words "my husband" in an entitled manner that still feels awkward. I confess, however, that it's way easier to say "my husband" than "my fiance", because when you say you have a fiance, the entire world squeals in your behalf and starts bombarding you with questions about your upcoming wedding. For some reason they are now socially entitled to deep personal details of your intimate life. People will break social barriers for few things: fiances, babies, and pregnant women. I feel sorry for the much-molested pregnant women out there.
The best "my husband" line came yesterday. Our garbage disposal had been making a most alarming crunching sound whenever it was turned on, and much gingerly shoving our hands around had turned up no stray utensils or other metallic objects. I finally called maintenance to have them look at it. They called me promptly to tell me they were finished, which I found unusual since a note left on my counter usually suffices. The conversation went as follows:
"Hi, this is John, I've fixed your garbage disposal."
"Oh, that's fantastic, thank you so much. What was wrong with it? We couldn't find anything in there."
"Well, it's working just fine now. I just wanted to inform you that we pulled a bullet casing out of the disposal."
"WHAT??!??!?! WHY is there a bullet casing in my sink?!??!?!"
"I don't know ma'am, I was hoping you could tell me."
The conversation continued, he being infallibly polite, I being outraged, horrified, and flabbergasted as to why there were bullets in my apartment. Had someone broken in and shot guns off and then secretly disposed of them? Had former tenants been drug dealers and tried to get rid of imposing evidence? We had already been informed by UPS that according to their records on our neighborhood, there was "no way in hell" their delivery people would leave packages on our doorstep.
The maintenance man, understandably, was quite interested in what I did in my spare time, how long I had lived there, what behaviors might lead to me, the shady tenant, dumping bullet casings in my sink. I racked my brains, because logically, anything left in my sink from a previous tenant would have been found by now; clearly whatever foreign object must have been recently--
"OHHHHHHH. OHhhhhhhhh..... oh, he is in SO MUCH TROUBLE...."
"excuse me, ma'am?"
"My HUSBAND. He friggin brought back friggin bullet casings from friggin Africa and was washing them in the kitchen sink.... he must have dropped one in there without realizing..."
"Um. Okay, well I don't know about bullet casings from Africa, but... if you know where it came from, and it's harmless, then..."
"AAAAAAAAAGGGGGH. I'm so sorry."
Not as sorry as My Husband was when he found out what had happened. Of all the things... a freaking bullet casing, Husband. Seriously. I love you...! :P
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11 comments:
Firstly... I would just like to say that it was not a sewer it was a storm drain... that is the difference between rain water and poo.
I was indeed called Mr. Keng at the grocery store last night which I assume just means that I look like I am really good at math and karate, what a sage young lad we had bagging our groceries.
And come on now??? Who hasn't brought back AK-47 shells from a post-conflict African country and dropped one or two down the sink whilst trying to get some of the dust/dirt off of them? These things happen to everyone.
I will say that saying "my wife," has not been nearly as hard as calling her "Jen Pierson." I still say Jen Keng all the time and it has proven to be quite a difficult habit to break.
And then one day you wake up and realize that you don't think twice about saying "my husband." Especially when volunteering him to do something that you don't really want to do, but know that someone probably should. Or in the case that you are blaming him for something (you seem to have caught onto this one quickly).
And one of the best ways to get used to the whole new last name thing is to teach seminary together. There's nothing like hearing Justin call me "Sister Scott" to get me used my new identity (it's only taken like a year and a half...). I know of an opening for a seminary teacher if you'd like some help adjusting to the new name a little fast...
And thank you for FINALLY posting something new!
Great post from you and comment from Matt. Laughed out loud. This could be a whole new direction to take your blog--the ups and downs of a newlywed.
I'll have you know, this post produced audible laughter all the way from friggin Africa. Although I haven't yet gotten around to picking up any friggin AK-47 shells yet. I'll add it to my to-do list. Apparently I need to get some to drop in the sink once I get home so I can be like "everyone."
LOL! Gotta love being newlyweds! Still to this day my husband gets called Mr Davidson at safe (davidson is my maiden name), so you can have that chuckle for awhile if you always use your safeway club card/phone#!
Yay! I'm so glad you posted about your Adventures in Marriage! Also, I'm glad that according to the title, there will be more volumes (which is a given, title or not)! More! More! Oh, and yes to the pictures, please!
I must admit that, like your husband, I too think it will be hard to start identifying you as Jen Pierson. I may just take to calling you JKP instead. :)
Um, Mr. Keng. You may be the most hilarious karate master-mathematician I know.
Hey Abby, can you pick me up some friggin shell casings from Africa? My garbage disposal has been working far too well.
Just a tidbit...The grocery store person calling Matt Mr. Keng is like people that would ask my companions on my mission if we were twins since we "had the same name."
Right. Because most twins have the same first name...er...wait...
That's too funny. Funny how quickly we start learning interesting, random facts about our spouses! ;) You guys are too cute.
Yay Jen! You're already using the husband excuse. It's one of my favorites :) Of course, it does go both ways, and I find myself to be quite the harridan sometimes when I, as you know, am quite sweet and mild mannered :) Hope you are having lots of fun.
Vicki
Btw, I accidentally informed our church leaders that Husband (it catches on quickly after a mere two months) used to be a professional mover. He was horrified and understandably upset, I, being female, did not understand the hell to which you chain yourself when you volunteer yourself as a "professional mover" in the LDS world. Husband, in return, threatened to inform all appropriate leaders that I am a "professional ward organist" should I ever toe out of line, a threat to which he has me firmly succumbed.
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