Let the Silliness Begin!

Lots of things are muttered around my house, and it's funny how those very things sound like they could be, if not are, lyrics from Veggie Tales. For instance:

Saturday, my husband was walking around our bedroom muttering something that sounded almost like this: Oh where is my hairbrush? Oh where is my hairbrush? Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where ...is my hairbrush?

To which I replied something very similar to ... Back there is your hairbrush. Back there is your hairbrush. Back there, back there, oh where, back there, oh where, oh where, back there, back there, back there ... is your hairbrush!

And, I find that, like this song, I tend to have to repeat myself many times to make sure he is looking, because otherwise, he just glances, and nothing gets found.

Of course, if I was feeling mean-spirited, I could have replied... No hair for your hairbrush. No hair for your hairbrush. No hair, no hair, nowhere, no hair, no hair, no hair, nowhere, up there, no hair ... for your hairbrush.

But because I'm a loving and supportive wife, I did not take the time to remind him of his rapidly receding hair line. Now, granted, we don't really say stuff like this, but our conversations sure do come close to this! In fact, this very conversation resulted in my husband asking me to cut his hair ... Sunday morning ... as I'm frantically trying to get ready for church. Now, I've never cut his hair before. I can't even cut my bangs in a straight line, so... this may not have been a wise thing to do. Okay -- it wasn't a wise thing to do. But I did any way, because I'm just a rebel like that. And folks, I was laughing so hard while I was using the clippers to cut his hair that I couldn't see from all the tears in my eyes! Needless to say... he won't be asking me to cut his hair for a very long time. And... he won't need that hairbrush for a while, either.

Moving on ...

I may not have mentioned to you, my dear internet friends, the clever and oh so "adorable" nick name my loving husband gave me while I was pregnant. Yeah. It's after one of the Veggie Tale songs he heard on the radio one day. If you're a Veggie Tales fan, then I'm sure you can guess where I might be going with this. Any way, he thought it was just the perfect nick name for his beloved wife, and during a quiet moment at night, with the lights off, and a very pregnant me trying to sleep, he leans over to hug me and kiss me goodnight and says, "come here, my little water buffalo, woooo!" You're probably thinking to yourself, "Whaaat?!? Did I hear right?" Why yes, yes you did. From that moment on, I could hear his voice echoing through the vast mansion that we own, singing at the top of his lungs... "water buffalo, woo! water buffalo, woo!"

Hmmm. Clever.

Fortunately, after I had the baby, he stopped using that very clever nick name (and a good thing, too)... that is ... until ... this weekend. Yeah. You got it. He said it AGAIN. So, we had a good laugh and all -- hardy, har, har -- and then I made him pinky promise to never, ever call me that again, or I would break his pinky.

So, in honor of the silliness you're reading about today, and because I know you're just dying to know ... here are the words the The Water Buffalo Song:

Everybody's got a water buffalo. Yours is fast but mine is slow. Oh, where we get them, I don't know, but everybody's got a water buffalo! I took my buffalo to the store, Got her head stuck in the door, Spilled some lima beans on the floor, Oh, everybody's got a water buffalo.

Okay - let me just clarify something right now -- When I was pregnant, it is possible that I might have been slow, and most likely that I went to the store, and I might have gotten my head stuck in the door, but I never, ever spilled lima beans on the floor. Ever.