Tuesday / February 14 / 2012
The shocking truth about time machines
I’ve already fessed-up I like to argue. And so does my husband. If we go several weeks with no debate, our palms get sweaty. (See how I resourcefully used the word, “debate”?)
En route from “wage war” to “debate”, Skip-n-I had a handful of things to learn about the art of arguing. There’s an art to argument, you ask? Resoundingly, yes. In order to have a happy, successful, fruitful relationship, it’s critical you learn your unique art of argument — the art that is unique to your relationship.
At one of Skip’s-n-my lessons, my ever-clever, always creative mate opted to toss something new into the mix. Now, if you understood his fascination with the core of mankind’s interaction with itself, you’d appreciate his fulfillment with, at the very least, amusing himself.
When Hubs reached the moment in our conversation when a passerby would testify under oath I can elevate my eyebrows in less than a second with a sharp drop of my jaw, he whipped out his new technique.
With a smirk and a raised hand, he quickly slammed down the imaginary button declaring, “Time Machine!!”
Before I could take in enough air for a gasp, he quickly repeated the line he had spoken immediately before jumping into the pot of boiling oil, “What do you think we should have for dinner tonight?”
Tilting my eyes and furrowing my brows, I attempted to form a word. Or even a thought. He quickly repeated the whole scenario, as if perhaps I hadn’t caught it the first time.
“Tiiiiiime Machine!”, he quipped with added emphasis. I swear I saw the big red button! It was that moment I could no longer resist. It was simply too cute. Too clever. Too amusing.
He had reset time. He had taken us (read: HIM) back to that moment right before sticking his foot in his mouth.
I’m not sure exactly how or when he came up with his new little stunt, but knowing him the way I do, I bet it was right on the spot. My spontaneous, endearing man. How I cherished him. How I loved the way he pulled me in and promised again, “I love you!”
So now, the Time Machine is part of our lives. It can’t be abused and needs not be overused. But those repeated, ‘rewind’ moments help put things in perspective. Oh, and on special occasions, he doesn’t simply repeat the pre-foot-in-mouth sentence — he throws in a variation of question-to-statement, something along the lines of, “Can you run out to the store and pick up some milk?” to, “I’m gonna run out to the store and pick up some milk.”
The shocking truth about time machines? They work. Invest in one today.
Happy Valentine’s Day, my friends.