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Psalms of David

Come on, I had to think up a clever title to compete with Simon Says and Mike Check. So maybe it’s a little irreverent. Would you expect anything less? And don’t worry, I won’t be busting this out as a recurrent feature. I’m just not up for the challenge of remembering 98% of what we say to each other that isn’t funny. So I can’t imagine cataloging his comedic genius on a regular basis. But maybe I’ll surprise myself….

Over Father’s Day weekend, (3 days of it, much to my delight) my handsome husband continually surprised me with his one-liners, delivered in juuuuust enough of a flat affect to let me know that he has not yet recovered from the sleeplessness bomb that detonated on our wee family exactly 2 months ago today. (Love you, John Paul)

So without further ado…I give you the following gems:

While excoriating Joey for his 13th summit into the babyswing of the morning, he barked ‘out of there Mr. Copa Cabana … you’ll be doing your lounging in time out since you didn’t listen to mommy.’

Whilst sunning our whitewhitewhite selves at an upscale pool with ‘water features’ on Father’s Day, he whispered ‘For a family friendly place, there sure are a lot of tattoos.’ Upon being reminded that his wife is also inked, he replied ‘I was reflecting on that.’

Before a family excursion to Target, when I asked whether I needed to change from my daily momiform of maternity capris and magenta wife beater, he calmly replied ‘Maybe you could slip into something a little less white trash.’

When asked if he wanted to pray Joey’s bedtime Rosary decade, he gestured towards the living room where The Bachelorette was streaming live: ‘Well we’ve already missed the intro…we better wait for a commercial break.’

Upon hearing a certain someone emit a clap of thunder from the backseat, he remarked ‘that’s JP’s battle cry.’

Discussing our upcoming trip to Rome and attendance at a Papal Mass with our smallest fry, he asked in mock horror, ‘You’re going to breastfeed in front of the Holy Father. You know he’s German, right?’

I’d say we’re equally yoked.

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