In my continual efforts to be a good husband, I often make a mental note of Sherry's plans so I can then recite them back to her at the end of the day and ask something like "How'd your lunch appointment with Angelina Jolie go?".
Now, I have an uncanny, almost preternatural ability to notice if a woman has styled her hair differently, a new cut, style, color or any other number of categories. But wait, it's even weirder - I don't fixate on hair, I never consciously note how "Jane" has styled her hair and if it is different. It just happens.
So anyway, Sherry had told me that she was getting her hair done one fine morning. Being a good husband, a sticky note was attached to my grey matter, ready to compliment her at the end of the day.
The hour arrived, and I gasped as she entered the room - "The cut, the style - the way that it frames the delicate features of your face". I was in fine form, pontificating perfectly with vocabulary of the vernacular delivered with astounding articulation.
She said "I rescheduled my appointment". Nothing was done to her hair. I was humiliated.
(apologies to CB)
I elucidate with the tongues of angels - incredibly intelligent, cogent and articulate. My wife, friends, family and dog hear “blah blah blah”
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