This is not a travel tube of toothpaste. It looks like one though, especially when you aren’t wearing your contact lenses and it’s sitting right next to the sink. Luckily I figured this out before something tragic happened. I can’t say the same for the time I mistook pepper spray for a lighter. I had been planning a romantic evening and was trying to light the candles with what I thought was a fancy lighter I found in one of our three junk drawers. Instead of coming home to a candlelit dinner, Dave came home to me coughing, crying, spitting and puking on the couch. It was awesome.
What this is, is tattoo aftercare ointment. For the tattoo Dave got unbeknownst to me while I was in Palm Springs with my college girlfriends. “So, I got a tattoo,” he tells me after the kids are in bed. At least he waited until the kids were in bed. This is not the first time I’ve come home from a trip to learn of new ink on my husband. The last time he made the announcement in front of fly fishing houseguests I’d just met and our then five-year-old son. So you know, at least he told me in private.
“Is my lower lip trembling uncontrollably?” I asked him after a long silence. SO much running through my head. Trying not to say things I can’t take back.
“Do I need a drink before I see it?” I ask.
“It’s not that bad,” he reasoned, as if you can rationalize an unplanned tattoo in Florida. (For some reason it seems all the worse to me that he had it done in Florida.)
I felt my body relax a notch or two and asked to see it. I SO needed a drink first. Maybe seven.
That my friends, is the surly monkey. A brainchild of Dave’s that serves as his magazine‘s mascot. It’s creative, it’s funny, but I don’t think it belongs permanently on his torso holding a fly rod and giving the finger. I reminded him that we have children who will see this when we go to the beach. And on Shirtless Sundays. Which isn’t a thing in our house, but now it never can be. Thanks Dave.
And I was just thinking about how cute it was that while Dave was in Florida and I was California, we were searching for a white Speedo for him at the same time. Because that’s what couples who’ve been together as long as we have do. We finish each other’s sentences, look up at the sky across the country and wish upon the same star, and simultaneously shop for mankinis.
It just goes to show you: Just when you think everything’s all hearts and white Speedos, a surly monkey has to come along and flip you off.