Last week, my husband had his second hip replacement surgery.
“You’ll be my ‘Six Million Dollar Man,’ ” I said, referring to the TV series from the ’70s.
Because he’s good at math and handy with Google, Derek corrected me.
“Actually, adjusted for inflation, I’m your 32 million dollar man.”
On the morning of his surgery, the gentleman escorting him to the OR area asked, “Does your wife write for The Spokesman-Review?”
“Yes, but don’t hold that against me,” Derek replied.
“Oh! I won’t. She’s my favorite columnist! I like how she gives you a hard time.”
That kind fellow may be a bit confused about which partner gives the other a hard time – so without further ado, here’s your next installment of #ThingsMyHusbandSays.
He’s been talking in his sleep
• I was just about asleep the other night when Derek rolled over and started loudly counting in midsnore.
“Five, four, (long pause) three …”
Snoring resumed. I don’t know if he forgot what came after three or if he’d lifted off, but I was awake for a long time wondering.
• Derek was talking in his sleep again.
“Wonder if cats fluff up if you stick ’em in there,” he mumbled.
I poked him.
“What are you dreaming about?”
“The dryer,” he said and rolled over.
Yeah. You try going back to sleep after that!
Derekisms
• We were talking about someone who got caught in a lie. Derek said, “Oh, what tangled weaves we web.”
I burst out laughing.
Derek huffed. “It’s BRITISH!”
• That’s not the only language he speaks. At a family dinner, our son Zach said, “Well, if the music career doesn’t pan out, I can always get a job selling moist towelettes to restaurants.”
Me: I think your dad sells moist towelettes.
Derek: Hmm … I sell little toilets to clean safety glasses with.
- Hysterical laughter
Derek: What?
Me: You said you sell little toilets!
Derek: No. I said I sell little toilettes. It’s French.
Zach (wiping his eyes): Dad, don’t ever change!
• We were watching a movie, and Derek said, “Look, C.S. Lewis!”
My husband may be the first person in the universe to confuse comedian Louis C.K. with the author of “The Screwtape Letters.”
• While reading a coffee package, he said, “Hmm … looks like I like my coffee the way I like my women, full-figured and smooth.”
I grabbed the package.
“That’s full-BODIED!
He shrugged.
“Same thing.”
Life according to Derek
• We were waiting for the start of “Love’s Labor Lost” at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. My husband asked if it was a comedy or a tragedy. I told him it’s about some guys who swear to give up girls in favor of scholarly pursuits.
“Ah. More farce with tragic results,” he said.
• Derek got an “avocado” cigar.
“Smell it!” he said, waving it under my nose.
I shuddered.
“It looks like a turd, and it smells like a turd,” I said.
Holding it under his nose, he took a deep breath and said, “If my turds smelled like this, I would never flush!”
• When our son told his dad they were playing pickleball in PE, my husband was unimpressed.
“When I was a kid, we used REAL pickles when we played pickleball.”
• One Sunday at church, our pastor said, “When you think Peter, most of you think of the fisherman – the rock on whom the church was built.”
Derek leaned over and whispered, “I think of Paul and Mary.”
Married life
• Now and then, I get a glimpse of what my husband would be like as a single man.
Recently, I caught him watching squirrel hunting on TV.
“They’re shooting them out of trees! Look at them run! Oooh! A dog got that one. He’s still twitching. Wonder why they have silencers on their .22s?”
• Him: What does “carga” mean in Spanish?
Me: I don’t know, why?
Him: I’m rewiring the downstairs bathroom switch, and I accidentally grabbed the Spanish instructions.
• Derek trying to talk me into watching a horror movie.
“It’s romantic. Like a love story only TERRIFYING!”
• Speaking of movies, we streamed a film that failed to impress and pondered if we should finish it.
Him, sighing: Well, we’ve had 35 minutes and 32 seconds of nonstop fun.
Me: Maybe it’s like marriage – you have to hang in there to get to the good part.
Him: You mean death?
Anyway, we are still married.
Derek told people the reason he had both hips replaced was so that he could keep up with the grandkids, but as they wheeled him back for surgery, the truth came out.
“Pretty soon, I’m gonna be able to catch Cindy!”
Stay tuned.
The fading late afternoon sun, blurred by the haze of wildfires, fell softly across the foot of his bed. A smoke-tinged breeze wafted through the open French doors.
Cindy Hval 