My wife has a lot to learn about practical jokes. I may’ve fallen hook, line and sinker for the cruel one she played today, but she’s certainly drawn no satisfaction from her triumph.
Why did Sophia feel compelled to play a prank on me, you ask? Well, my daily musings often feature stories about her, our marriage, and her family. And those tales occasionally reveal details she’d rather not publicize. Thus, payback’s been percolating in her mind for some time.
Remorselessly, she preyed on my well known love for Ellen DeGeneres. Not only do I think Ellen’s hilarious, but I also admire the positive energy and goodwill she broadcasts weekly. If I could meet any celebrity, I’d definitely choose her. And as I discovered a short while ago, were she ever to phone me, I’d drop whatever I was doing to take the call.
Unbeknownst to me, Sophia located a credible Ellen impersonator. Someone identifying himself as the star’s assistant rang my cell phone an hour and a half ago, as I was doing laundry. He asked if I’d hold for Ellen. “Umm, yes!!!” As unlikely as the scenario seemed, I didn’t find it implausible. A few weeks ago, Sophia slyly claimed she’d written Ellen about my blog. Since the woman who got on the line said she was Ellen and sounded exactly like her, I believed.
I felt thrilled to hear Ellen say she’d read my blog and, as she put it, “loved, loved, loved it!” When she added that she wanted me on her show, I broke into my happy dance and gushed “thank you” like a schoolgirl. Ellen and I talked for nearly an hour before she finally said goodbye, after telling me one of her staff members would be in touch.
I couldn’t wait to give my wife the good news. After quickly addressing the two matters I’d dropped in haste to take Ellen’s call, I dialed Sophia’s office. I rambled excitedly for more than a minute before she cut me off and burst my bubble with the truth.
From there on though, Sophia’s victory tasted less sweet by the second. She practically begged forgiveness after I pointed out her cruelty in my most dejected tone: “You know, I don’t remember your marriage vows including a promise to crush my spirit.”
That chastisement stung, but not as much as my ensuing revelations regarding those matters to which I’d belatedly attended. The first involved Prometheus. He’d joined me in our master closet before the phone rang, gnawing on my socks while I folded tee-shirts. Inadvertently, I’d locked him in when I left the room. Judging from the size and location of the urine stain I discovered in the aftermath of my chat with Ellen, his thorough destruction of Sophia’s Ferragamo pumps must’ve over-stimulated his tiny bladder.
My second revelation concerned Sophia’s bras, panties and lingerie. I’d transferred them to the dryer after washing them, intending a maximum fifteen minute tumble for the delicate items. Alas, in the hour spent gabbing with my new pal, Ellen, the Mrs.’ treasured unmentionables had turned into her “unwearables.”
So, all in all, I guess we’re even.