There are two types of husbands: the behaving kind and the not-behaving kind.
The behaving kind has several sub-types, but the not-behaving kind has lots of sub-types.
The Not-Behaving Variety runs the gamut from chasing (women, fish, cars) to cheating (best friends, sisters, brothers) to taking (booze, drugs, money).
Hidden in between the two are the Mostly Behaving. While we can veer from mostly good to mainly entertaining, I have been living on the edge between the two worlds: A humor-based, Mostly Behaving subtype with some behaving tendencies.
This isn’t an easy balance; I teeter right between absolutely hilarious to everyone else and somewhat irritating to my Beloved. Consider this …
For a time, the Beloved hated cherries. Cherry flavored ANYTHING usually produces a puckered face, foul language and a sputtering cloud of cherry flavor. If it was really tangy, there might be a gag reflex or two.
This makes for some interesting possibilities for a Mostly Behaving husband. Cherry chapstick?
Put some on before a passionate bit of sugaring and watch the hilarity. Cherry cough drops? That’s a one-off because the Beloved is a smart lady. (She learned to look.) Cherry LifeSavers work if she’s distracted, but the coop day graw is the can of Cherry Coke Zero.
See, Co’Cola got fancy about 15 years ago. They usta sell you a six-pack to toss in the fridge; twelve-packs were these blocky rectangles you’d toss in the cabinet. Then some really smart guy, probably from Georgia Tech, figured they could make a Fridge Pack: twelve cans that would roll right out of the box and stay stacked. Brilliant!
But what Co’Cola didn't do was differentiate the packaging very much between Coke Zero (black and silver can) and Cherry Coke Zero. (black and silver can with a small cherry on it.) I was pondering life’s mysteries one day when I noticed the similarities, and I realized we had a Fridge Pack of Coke Zeros (Which the Beloved likes) and I held a single can of Coke Cherry Zero in my hand.
I saw an opportunity to go from Mostly Behaving to Behaving Badly, and I took it.
Instead of enjoying my Cherry Coke Zero, I decided to delay my own gratification and “Share a Coke and a Smile.” So I went home, made sure no one was looking, and pulled out about five Coke Zeros, and put in the Cherry Coke Zero.
And I waited.
For the rest of the afternoon, I’d pause with each popped top. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Did a kid get it? (For some reason, my kids think they’re sneaky and funny.) Was it noticed? Was I … wrong?
Late that night, nearing midnight, I was nestled in bed with dreams of stories running through my head. I was just about asleep, and I heard the pop of a top. We should be pretty close, I thought. I heard the sip, the gasp, the sputter. From the darkened kitchen came the two words that let me know my job was well done:
Hubba Hubba, indeed. My work for today is done.
Blue Cole is a writer and humorist from Sharpsburg, Georgia, where he lives with four wives, one child, and various wee creatures. Visit www.bluecole.com for novels, essays and more.