Shamu-Kung-Fu

Jeff started Shamu-ing me this weekend.

If you're not familiar with the concept of Shamu-ing, I read about it around 2008 when I came across a book by Amy Sutherland called "What Shamu Taught Me About Life, Love & Marriage: Lessons from Animals and Their Trainers" (hilarious book, by the way).

The book claims that humans can be trained using the same techniques used at SeaWorld to train dolphins and killer whales.  Specifically, trainers reward the behaviors they want and completely ignore undesired behaviors.

I know this method.  I use this method on Jeff all the time.  And he finally realized what I've been doing and is giving it right back to me.  He's not even trying to hide it!  The worst part (or best part according to Jeff) is that my Dad was at our house on Sunday and there was a serious Shamu-conspiracy going on.  No wait, the worst part is that Jeff admitted he was doing it.  He finds it hilarious, especially because I get so annoyed when he does it.

Here's a little example: I cooked dinner on Saturday night and he heaped praise on me like I had just served The Last Supper on a Silver Platter.  Way over the top gratitude.  Then on Sunday, I accidentally set fire to the toaster oven (again) and he completely ignored me.  I repeatedly yelled for him to come help me but he kept ignoring me until I took care of it myself.

This?  Will not stand.

Jeff's Shamu-Kung-Fu is not strong.  This killer whale is about to beach his ass.

Endnote: If you Google "Shamuing", you'll also find this awesome (and completely unrelated) definition in the Urban Dictionary: "Someone who tells obvious lies about everyday life and lies about anything and everything just to make themselves look good thus looking stupid and pathetic purely because they think everyone actually believes them".  Thankfully, this type of Shamu-ing is *not* going on in my marriage.  As far as I know.

Groundhog Day, marriage style

Jeff and I have the same conversation just about every day. We’d probably have it every day, but we don’t see each other that much. LAB’s secret to a healthy marriage = a lot of time spent apart. The topic differs from day to day, but the conversation is basically the same. Since you (never) asked, I thought I’d give you a little peek into the inner workings of a marriage heading into the 10-year-mark.

LAB: (looking out the back door) Hey, my Jonquils are coming up!
Jeff: What the hell is a Jonquil? Do you mean the Daffodils?
LAB: They’re called Jonquils. I know because my mom grew them at her house, too.
Jeff: They’re Daffodils. And as I’ve mentioned previously, just because your Mother said something doesn’t make it true.
LAB: Google it, Jack Ass.
Jeff: (goes to computer) Here it is. Botanic name is Narcissus, also commonly called Daffodil.
LAB: Scroll down, Yankee Boy. It says ‘the name Jonquil is sometimes used in North America, particularly in the South’.
Jeff: It says Daffodil first, which makes me more right. And why do you always think being Southern makes you smarter than I am?
LAB: I think I’m smarter because I’m smarter. Being Southern is just a bonus.
Jeff: When you start a sentence with the words ‘I think’, it pretty much guarantees that anything you say afterward is bullshit.
LAB: Being wrong makes you so pissy. Do you think my Jonquils will die if there’s another frost?
Jeff: No, but the Daffodils will.

Clearly we were meant for each other.

Marital Zingers

I don’t have much time today, so I thought I’d share some of the “Marital Zingers” delivered by Jeff this week.  And before you start thinking that I’m an abused wife, I should note that I was raised from birth on a steady diet of good-natured ribbing, and I’ve never spent more than five minutes with a guy who can’t both take it and dish it out. 

And so, without further delay, I give you the wisdom of my hubby of almost 10 years, Jeff:

“LAB, the problem with you is that you live your life on 8.5 and I, along with the rest of the world, prefer you at around 4 or 5.”

“You’re asking an awful lot from those spiky heels, aren’t you?  SHHHH!!! If you listen closely you can hear them screaming.”

“I don’t know why I’m wasting my time trying to reason with a woman who firmly believes that no family is complete until they adopt a 125-pound dog.”

“OK.  I can’t believe we’re covering this again, but the proper response when someone asks if they can drive through our yard is ‘NO’.  Nnnnnnnnnn.  Oooooooo.  Got it?  Practice in the mirror if you need to.”

“You think you’re Colonel Potter, but it’s pretty clear that you’re really Radar.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Are you about to tell another story about how smart & creative you are because you had an imaginary friend as a child?  Because I can’t take it.  Can’t. Take. It.”

“Didn’t you just get approved for overtime?  Go back to work.  Back to work!!!”

“Are you sitting there watching YouTube videos of dogs sledding?  Seriously?  Just for one day I’d like to live in your world.”

“I don’t know how one woman can leave so much hair in the tub and on the bathroom floor and not be completely bald.  It’s like some kind of self-renewing energy source.  You’re a freak of nature.”

“You do understand that sitting in a rocking chair with a glass of wine while watching ‘What Not to Wear’ reruns isn’t the highest and best use of your time, right?”

And, my personal favorite:  “You better not be blogging about this!”  God help me, I really do love that man!