Pardon me? NEVER MIND!!

Did you ever hear part of a conversation and think, "I know what they are talking about but I wish to be certain so I don't embarrass myself..." Of course you didn't. No one does. Who thinks like that? My wife was talking to a group of friends the other day and I thought she was talking about a shared experience we'd had. So I said, "What?" (having an interest in your spouse is a good way to obtain husband points) Sylvia, in her ever honest state, turned to me and said, "Gynecologist."



"uhhh....errrr......that isn't what I thought you....COMING! Sorry the kids are calling." (I refer back to a previous post where I mention that I am a raging introvert.)



Luckily Sylvia is used to me being somewhat clueless and partially inept so she let me slink away, tail between my legs, feeling foolish. The funny thing for me is that now if someone wants to barge into my conversation I have another answer for, "What are we talking about?" I used to say, "14th century French poetry." but Sylvia's answer will work now too. And she wasn't even trying to be funny! That is what cracks me up.



You would think that I would learn about these things but it happened again the other night while we were out dancing. As an aside, let me explain that I have "partial hearing loss due to noise" and a ringing in my ears at all times. Put me in a noisy room and I am mostly deaf. Put me in a nightclub and you better be looking at me when you talk or prepare for disappointment. (It's ok though, I teach kindergarten and those rooms are notoriously quiet...HAH!) So anyway, this time the ladies were talking and they kept looking at me. I assumed that I was supposed to be joining in so I said, (say it with me) "WHAT?"



The answer?



"TAMPONS!" (I know this is getting tedious but I feel I must explain that I am not normally fixated on things reproductive, and female. Purely a coincidence.)



They then shouted through the noise that their husbands had collectively purchased the aforementioned items (ahem) maybe 3 times. I then promised that I had a story, but I couldn't do it there. I would write about it in the blog, with Sylvia's permission. Well she is on the phone in the kitchen and I am too tired to get up. Here goes.



On one of our many trips across the country we left the trailer parked at a friends house in Texas and drove around the state from hotel to hotel for a few days. We were having fun (Schlitterbahn) and it was very informative (NASA) but on the way back to the camper we were getting a little tired. We decided, in the days before smart phones, that we would stop at the first hotel that looked a shade above the Bates Motel and didn't have chalk body outlines on the sidewalk outside. It was a bit of a challenge because the freeway, interstate, goat trail, torture route...was easy to get off but nearly impossible to get back on. We had already decided, choose wisely or perish!



Econo, Comfort, Motor, vacancy done! We're off the freeway and, after a bit of coaxing the sleeping children out of the truck, in our palatial/nondescript room. The kids in bed, the TV on, my feet up on our bed, and Sylvia comes out of the bathroom sheepishly. "Jeff...um...I started...and I don't have anything." To clue you in (in case you haven't been paying attention), that means that she has been visited by mother nature. She is also wearing her pajamas and headed to her side of the bed to lie down. To be fair, after we have been married this long she knew that I wouldn't dream of sending her out, alone, into an unknown city at night. She could do it. She's very capable. It's just a thing of mine. I don my superhero persona and walk to the front desk to get (ahem) an item. At the front desk I learned how hard it is to speak in euphemisms to someone who was learning English as a second language.



"My wife needs...um...protection. Tampax?"



He points to the vending machine with gum, sewing kits, hair rollers (seriously?), and two blank white boxes about the right size and shape. He points to the one on the right...I put in my 5 quarters, turn the knob, and I am now the proud owner of a brand new condom. Rats! What happens next is one of my favorite stories to tell in person...let's see if I can do it justice...next time!

Don't you hate that? To Be Continued...!

Just picture The Fonz in the air in front of Arnold's on his way to crash into the chicken stand. (Do NOT picture him in the air over the shark in Hawaii...that episode sucked.)