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Columns

Things my husband says: new and improved edition

Cindy Hval

When my oldest brother David offers advice, I usually take it. He’s a pretty smart guy.

When my husband had hip replacement surgery a few weeks ago, however, David warned, “Just don’t write a column about what he says while coming out of the anesthesia.”

That’s like telling me not to drink coffee in the morning.

The surgery went well, and when they wheeled him into his post-op room, I met him there, notebook in hand.

Alas, he didn’t have general anesthesia, so no embarrassing quips to report. He also was a bust when he had his wisdom teeth removed. He did worry, though.

“I’m afraid I’ll say something inappropriate to you,” he said.

“You always say inappropriate things to me,” I replied.

“Yeah, but not in front of witnesses.”

Thankfully, Derek doesn’t need drugs to entertain me. Here’s the latest installment of #ThingsMyHusbandsays.

He’s been talking in his sleep

• One night, as I drifted into sleep, Derek murmured, “Tootsie Rolls … a chest filled with Tootsie Rolls …”

I guess his sweet tooth even haunts his dreams.

• Early one morning, he rolled over and elbowed me.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry!” he said. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I sleep here,” I said.

“I know, but you didn’t look like you were here.”

Derekisms

• Derek on why I should watch “Dune.” “It has that guy you like, Jason MIMOSA.”

He’s not wrong. I do like the actor Jason Momoa. I also enjoy mimosas.

• Him: “Listen, it’s not your fault if they want to be a hobbit.”

Me: “You mean hermit?”

Him: “Whatever.”

• “Get the little hookers!” he said, while decorating the Christmas tree.

We don’t have risqué ornaments. He needed ornament hooks.

• “Look! There’s a Dalai Lama guy! Oh, hey, there’s two!” Derek upon seeing two Buddhist monks at Manito Park.

• “I’m feeling a lot better. I haven’t taken Desitin in days.”

Let the record show he meant Mucinex, not diaper cream.

• Derek’s been watching a PBS series about World War II called “Nazi Mega Weapons.”

It doesn’t really interest me, but I cuddled with him while he watched it.

I was kind of dozing and heard an interesting quote.

“Who said that?” I asked.

“It’s their fornication expert,” he replied.

I sat straight up.

“I meant FORTIFICATION expert.”

I stayed awake for the rest of the show just to be sure.

Life according to Derek

  • WARNING! Spoiler Alert!

One year, after Easter dinner, talk turned to when we each discovered the Easter Bunny wasn’t real.

Ethan, our oldest, couldn’t remember.

“How about you, Dad?” he asked. “You’re firstborn, too. Do you remember?”

“I’ll never forget it,” Derek said. “You were a baby, and I caught your mom taking an Easter basket to your room. ‘What are you doing!?’ I said. ‘That’s the Easter Bunny’s job!’ Then she broke it to me. I still haven’t gotten over it.”

• Him: “Damn squirrels are in my garden again!”

Me: “How did you get rid of them last year?”

Him:” I shot ’em.”

Me: “You did not!”

Him: “Yep. I got out Zach’s BB gun and blasted them.”

Me: “No, you didn’t.”

Him: “OK, then this is the year.”

• “It’s like a bad movie. I’m gonna finish it, but I’m not gonna like it.” Derek on sugar-free ice cream.

• One of our sons grew frustrated with the dating scene. “I’m lowering my expectations,” he said. “That’s what your mom did, and she got me!” his dad replied.

Married life

• Derek flung open the bedroom door.

“What do Chris Pine and I have in common besides our incredibly sexy good looks?”

I felt like this may be a trick question, so I shrugged.

“Don’t know. Give me a hint?”

He grinned.

“Warren Buffett and I have this in common, too!”

Now, I’m truly stumped.

“OK. I give. What do you, Chris Pine and Warren Buffett have in common?”

“We all HATE SMARTPHONES!” Derek says and does a victory lap around the bed.

(He’s quite attached to his ancient, barely functioning phone with its slide-out keyboard.)

PS: I was for cash. Lots of cash.

• Me: “Something is really wrong here. I just spent more money at PetSmart than I did at Total Wine.”

Him: “That’s terrible! You need to go back to Total Wine!”

• “I contemplate lumber the way you contemplate purses or shoes,” my husband on why he’s taking so long at Home Depot.

• One winter evening I couldn’t find Derek anywhere. Finally, Sam looked out on the deck and discovered his dad smoking a cigar. “What are you doing? It’s freezing out here!” I said.

Turns out he’d read about the oldest living veteran, who at 107 drinks whiskey in his morning coffee and smokes up to 12 cigars a day.

“I’ve got 11 more to go!” Derek said.

“Yeah, but also he said the true secret to his longevity is staying out of trouble,” I replied.

He sighed. “I’ll be in after I finish my cigar.”

With that kind of wisdom and his spry new hip, Derek just may make 107, too.

All Write, Columns

Things My Husband Says

Cindy Hval

This column has been 38 years in the making. In fact, it’s been brewing so long it’s hard to know where to begin.

By now, most readers are familiar with my semiregular compilations of #ThingsMyMomSays – the hashtag I use to keep track of my mother’s amusing musings. But far more voluminous, due to 38 years of close proximity, are #ThingsMyHusbandSays.

Derek has often been cited, quoted and otherwise featured in the 18 years I’ve written in this space. When his buddies ask if he minds being mentioned in such a public format, his standard response is: “As long as she gets paid for it, I’m good.”

Fingers crossed that holds true after today’s column because honestly, he’s provided enough material for a novella-size memoir. See, I’m married to an extrovert who processes almost all of his thoughts audibly – even when he’s sleeping. So much so, “He’s Been Talking in His Sleep” is a category of its own. Other categories include, “Derek’s Malapropisms” or “Dadisms” as our sons call them, “Life According to Derek” and “Married Life.”

I’m sure there are more categories, but I’m already running out of space, so without further ado, here are #ThingsMyHusbandSays.

He’s been talking in his sleep

• In the middle of the night, Derek said something I didn’t quite catch.

“What?” I asked.

“The whole town disappeared,” he said.

“What town? Where?”

“I dunno. I think it was Deer Park.”

At this point, I realize he’s asleep.

“Do you think it was the Rapture?” I asked.

Then came his emphatic reply: “God. Does. Not. Rapture. Zucchini.”

He rolled over and started snoring, but I was awake most of the night worrying about all the zucchini being left behind.

• I was awakened shortly after dawn by Derek’s garbled screaming. I poked him awake. “Are you having a bad dream?” I asked.

“No,” he mumbled. “Winning a prize.”

“A prize for what?”

“Loudest scream,” he says, and rolling over he added, “Now, I don’t know if I won.”

• Around 1 a.m. on a different night, I woke up to him singing “Happy Birthday.”

Laughing, I nudged him. “Why are you singing ‘Happy Birthday?’ ”

“Because it’s nice,” he said.

Then he sang it again.

Derek’s Dadisms

• “I wouldn’t feed that to a dead horse.”

• “I almost bit the farm.”

• “He looks like an uncle I never met.”

• Him: “Don’t forget we need to go to Mad Dog.”

Me: “Where?”

Him: “Angry Dog. The Brewery!”

Me: “You mean Laughing Dog?”

Him: “WOOF!”

• Derek: “I told him I’m tired of you poo-haing me.”

Me: “What did you tell him?”

Derek: “I said, I’m sick of you poo-haing me!”

I think he meant poo-pooing.

Life according to Derek

• While discussing insecurities, my husband confessed, “I’m insecure that my ninja skills have deteriorated.”

“I didn’t know that you even had ninja skills,” I replied.

“See? This is why I’m insecure,” he said.

• Derek had a buddy over to discuss home improvement projects. This is what I overheard.

“Dude, did I ever tell you about the time I got beat up by a blind guy?” Derek asked. “All those fights in middle school and I get taken out by a blind guy in my 40s!”

P.S.: It was at a Bob Dylan concert.

• Read this headline to my husband, “Surprised nun gives birth”.

“Is she surprised she’s a nun?” he asked.

• Potty training our twin grandsons proved educational.

Me: “It’s so cute that the boys wave goodbye to their poop when they flush the toilet.”

Him: “Doesn’t everyone?”

Married life

• I dreamed I had another baby boy. I was in the hospital and looked down and there he was!

“Did you see that?” I said to Derek in my dream. “The baby’s already here!”

In the morning, I recounted my dream to Derek.

His response?

“I hope we got a discount for self-delivery.”

• I got what I thought were aftershave samples in the mail.

I gave them to Derek, who liberally dabbed himself before we went out to dinner.

“How do I smell?” he asked.

“Oh no!” I said. “That is definitely perfume!”

“But you GAVE it to ME!”

“I’m so sorry! I guess I don’t read French very well,” I said.

He shook his head.

“Don’t blame me if dudes are hitting on me all night.”

• Him: “I was trying to replace the toilet paper when the spring shot out, and I dropped the brand-new roll in the toilet.”

Me: “Are you attempting to explain why you never replace the toilet paper?”

Him: “It was a mega roll. It made a BIG splash! Toilet water everywhere!”

• The first thing my husband said to me this morning: “Hey honey, check out this headline, ‘Journalists drink too much, are bad at managing their emotions and operate at a lower level than average, according to a new study.’ ”

This conversation prompted a new hashtag #wearestillmarried.

Let’s hope that remains true after this column!

All Write, Columns

Apology Accepted?

Cindy Hval

The crash happened in a split second. One minute my husband was driving down North Monroe Street, and in a flash a sedan darted out in front of him from a side street.

By the time he hit the brakes, he had hit the car, which spun 180 degrees, ending up with its back end in the southbound lane and its front end in the northbound.

Stunned and shaken, he pulled over in a nearby church parking lot. An off-duty fireman stopped to see if he was OK while others checked on the teenage girl and her passenger.

Derek drives an F-150 truck, and it hit the rear passenger door of the small sedan. All of the car’s airbags deployed. Amazingly, no one was injured.

“What were you thinking?” Derek asked the driver.

She said she had seen him signal to change lanes on the busy four-lane section of Monroe and thought he was turning. She thought she had time to make it across the intersection.

She thought wrong on all counts, and her mistake could have had a much higher price than just the inconvenience of damaged vehicles and time spent on insurance paperwork.

In the following days, Derek wavered between anger and relief. Several weeks later when the dust and the insurance had settled and his truck repaired, he received a letter from the girl.

“I’m sincerely sorry for the accident I caused. I’m very grateful you’re OK. This accident made me realize how very short life is – your life could be taken in any minute.”

The note seemed genuine and heartfelt, and whether her mother made her write it or not, the effect on Derek was liberating. He had already moved past anger, but her words allowed him to think more kindly of her.

A sincere apology will do that.

Wouldn’t the world be a better place if that happened more often?

Instead, sorry/not sorry has become a hashtag on Twitter, a popular Demi Lovato song, and a featured phrase in everyday conversation. Sorry/not sorry is what you say when you acknowledge your words or actions may have upset someone, but you really don’t care.

Huckleberries columnist Dave Oliveria refers to insincere mea-culpas as “ap-hollow-gies.”

It’s like when my boys were fighting and someone’s feelings, body, or toy had been hurt, and I’d admonish the offender to tell his brother he was sorry.

“Sorry,” the culprit would mumble.

The word was right, but often the body-language – arms folded, eyes-rolling, shoulders shrugging – revealed the kid was less than repentant.

That kind of apology usually resulted in further consequences. Even so, an “I’m sorry” rendered because a kid doesn’t want his video game privileges revoked, doesn’t get to the heart of the matter.

And speaking of hearts, there are times when even the most genuine mea culpa cannot mend or alleviate the pain of damage done.

Think of the courtroom apologies proffered by people who have killed or maimed someone while driving drunk. Or the relationships broken by betrayal. Or the workplace gossip that results in job loss.

While saying sorry may be the right thing to do, it doesn’t automatically translate into forgiveness.

And sometimes we can be haunted by the apology we never received.

Many years ago, someone close to Derek treated him very badly. Harsh words and untruths were spoken. He waited for an apology or even an acknowledgement of wrongs done.

It never came.

Eventually, Derek chose to forgive this person. It had little to do with the offender and everything to do with my husband’s peace of mind.

Forgiveness is a choice, and so is asking for it.

The letter from the young driver demonstrates what it means to acknowledge harm done and accept responsibility for it.

“I know I’m young and learning. I know that this was my fault, and I take full blame,” she wrote. “This has helped me look at life from a different perspective. I appreciate every moment for what it is. Once again I apologize.”

Apology accepted.