There are some cultural references that are just too old or local for many to understand. Though I believe that Gilligan's Island is a multi-generation icon.
I am also aware that for most humor, unless you were "there" it just isn't that funny. This may be one of those times. I was "there" and I can't stop giggling.
Let me set the stage: Returning from church, we are still in our Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. Husband sits at the counter as I make breakfast. There is serious conversation regarding the Homily from Mass. Serving his breakfast, I return to the fridge to gather makings for my juice breakfast; 2 apples, 1 pear, 2 red bell peppers, turnip greens, cucumber, 5 carrots and fresh ginger.
Conversation switches to the reconstruction of our downed fence. Cost. To borrow a truck to pick up materials or have materials delivered. Cost of hiring someone or to build it ourselves.
Money is a serious issue for Frank, the intensity of discourse is building exponentially as the price tag grows.
My veggies are prepared and ready for juicing...but wait....I hadn't peeled any fresh ginger. It's missing from the chopping block. I return to the fridge, which is jam-packed full of fruit and vegetables, as well as, sodas, beers, juices. soy, almond and cow milk containers all left over by family from Christmas break.
Frank and I continue to add up the materials needed and rising costs of said materials. Also discussing whether we need two double gates on the individual fences on side of house or if we can make do with single gates, or, maybe, a double gate on front yard entrance and single gate entering the back yard.
The intensity rapidly builds! This is serious business. Could be twice the investment we first imagined. We're talking 18 4x4 redwood posts just to start. Frank is hearing, "Ka-ching...Ka-ching...Ka-ching!" The tips of his ears have turned red and the vein in his forehead is throbbing.
I still can't find the package. Searching; my frustration becomes apparent as I open and close refrigerator drawers, shuffle carrots and celery. Bottles clank, an onion rolls out and across the floor.
"Damn it, I can't find Ginger!"
"Have you looked on the beach!...Ask Skipper, maybe he's seen her! What do think about wrought iron straps on the gates?"
Never missed a beat; inflection stayed even. This man is a keeper.
I am also aware that for most humor, unless you were "there" it just isn't that funny. This may be one of those times. I was "there" and I can't stop giggling.
Let me set the stage: Returning from church, we are still in our Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. Husband sits at the counter as I make breakfast. There is serious conversation regarding the Homily from Mass. Serving his breakfast, I return to the fridge to gather makings for my juice breakfast; 2 apples, 1 pear, 2 red bell peppers, turnip greens, cucumber, 5 carrots and fresh ginger.
Conversation switches to the reconstruction of our downed fence. Cost. To borrow a truck to pick up materials or have materials delivered. Cost of hiring someone or to build it ourselves.
Money is a serious issue for Frank, the intensity of discourse is building exponentially as the price tag grows.
My veggies are prepared and ready for juicing...but wait....I hadn't peeled any fresh ginger. It's missing from the chopping block. I return to the fridge, which is jam-packed full of fruit and vegetables, as well as, sodas, beers, juices. soy, almond and cow milk containers all left over by family from Christmas break.
Frank and I continue to add up the materials needed and rising costs of said materials. Also discussing whether we need two double gates on the individual fences on side of house or if we can make do with single gates, or, maybe, a double gate on front yard entrance and single gate entering the back yard.
The intensity rapidly builds! This is serious business. Could be twice the investment we first imagined. We're talking 18 4x4 redwood posts just to start. Frank is hearing, "Ka-ching...Ka-ching...Ka-ching!" The tips of his ears have turned red and the vein in his forehead is throbbing.
I still can't find the package. Searching; my frustration becomes apparent as I open and close refrigerator drawers, shuffle carrots and celery. Bottles clank, an onion rolls out and across the floor.
"Damn it, I can't find Ginger!"
"Have you looked on the beach!...Ask Skipper, maybe he's seen her! What do think about wrought iron straps on the gates?"
Never missed a beat; inflection stayed even. This man is a keeper.
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