Half-assed chivalry at its best!

The other day, we had what they were calling Snowmageddon. In other words, we got hit with a shitload of snow! Not that bad really… Toronto just likes to make big deals over nothing. Take the Maple Leafs for example…

After 2 full days of what was starting to feel like a re-enactment of The Shinning, it was time to escape like a convict from Alcatraz. Knowing I had an appointment, before leaving for work Big J came in to tell me he’d cleared the snow off the van for me.

Translation: I scraped off just enough snow so you can get IN the van. You can do the rest!
Snowmageddon Chivalry

Oh, I get it. Apparently it’s a doing-things-the-half-ass-way kinda day. I guess I never got the memo!

So when Big J came home from work, I was my usual wifey self… eagerly awaiting his arrival, apron on, clean babe on hip, with dinner on the stove (all this, and a smile, of course). I handed him a beer… cause a dutiful wife should always offer her husband a cold refreshment at the end of the day*. I read all this in Housekeeping Magazine… circa 1940. I also read somewhere that a kind, loving wife should always sample her husband’s drink to make sure it’s suitable to his liking**.  Ok. Fine. I made that last rule up! Good rule though, non?

Big J: This beer is half empty.  (Hence, my devoted wife sampling!)

Me: It’s not empty, you pessimist. It’s half-assed full!

He stared at me with a perplexed, weary expression. Not entirely sure what he was up against, he smiled sweetly, slowly stepped away from the situation (closely watching me from the corner of his eye), sat on the couch, and decided to play-it-safe and just enjoy his half-ass beer.

I poured myself a full-ass glass of wine (cause a wife should never let her husband drink alone, or something like that!). And we both drank happily ever after…

* Please note, none of the above is true… There was no dinner. Babe was definitely in need of a bath. And I don’t even own an apron.

** This part is true. I drank half his beer… happily.

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