Unlucky 13

Today's my 13th anniversary. Every day I write my wife a little note on the computer so that when she wakes up & goes to check her e-mail (and throughout the day), she's greeted by my thoughtful note (This is actually based on your recommendation from last year). Sometimes it's romantic, sometimes it's funny, and sometimes it's lame. Today's fell into the middle category. Some people might say that an anniversary deserves a romantic note, but I'm of the opinion that all that sappy stuff is reserved for the product-5 anniversaries (5, 10, 15, 20, ...). Here's this morning's note:

Somewhere between the time of my life
and the most fun a person can have without a knife
lies the last 13 years of our undying love
like a smoldering mouse henceforth trapped in our stove.
And now, for the director's commentary: The first thing I thought my wife would find funny was the "time of my life" bit -- it has been "A time in my life", but hardly qualifies as "The time of my life". I figured she would agree and maybe let out a giggle since I'm not much of a catch either. The knife bit is obvious, underscoring the fact that I sometimes wish I was dead. 13 years, blah blah blah ... and then we come to the mouse reference -- pure genius, since it relates a laborious passing of time to our "pet" mouse that lives under our oven. Maybe not pure genius, since our nocturnal friend is always up and about when I'm writing my messages, so it stands to reason that I would pay him homage. The "henceforth" is an attempt to make me sound like a real poet, that's all.

So anyway, I was (and still am) pretty proud of my pseudo-limerick. In addition to saving me money on a card, it should've brought a day-long smile to my wife's face. Instead, she threw my flowers in the trash & told me to make my own dinner. On the plus side, she did make up the couch for me to sleep on. Well, I at least salvaged the flowers and gave them to my secretary, but I'm not sure where I went wrong?!?

You suffer from a malady common to many males called PJD -- Poor Judgment Disorder. Not only is your poem inappropriate for an anniversary, but the fact that you recycled your wife's flowers for your secretary is disturbing. Try to concentrate less on showing off your brilliance and more on doing things that your wife will find meaningful.

posted by Lawrence A. Fing @ 12:00 PM