"I don't wanna - you do it. I'm scared. I can't-" I stuttered, looking at the huge instrument in my hand and feeling its abnormal weight.
"Sure you can. If Ben can do it - so can you!" Harry cooed from his perch.
"Well... okay... if you're sure...." And with faltering breath, I raised it to my mouth, took a deep breath and -
ROCKED OUT LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS!!!!
"ROCK BAND" for those of you who are not hip to the game system scene comes in a large box packaged with a fake guitar, a fake drum set and my forte - a fake microphone.
While Harry sweatily played the Simon-says-esque drum kit I concentrated on hitting notes that no woman should be able to hit.
"Today is gonna be the day... Cause you're my Wonderwalllllllllll!" I bellowed into the mike - loving the fact that I sounded like a complete idiot.
"AGAIN!" I screamed as Harry selected "Roam" by the B-52's - which I totally nailed. That's right. 100%. I am a Rock Star.
But ya'all already knew that, didn't ya?
On a different note (heh heh heh) I have to share this instance of wedded bliss with the world. As we were gathering up our laundry to carry up the stairs to the bedroom, Harry grabbed the overflowing basket and stopped at the foot of the incline. "Hey, hon - wanna play Charades?" He then grunted and groaned and dragged one leg to the second step. "Ugghhh," he said and then pulled the other leg to the step.
I stared at him realizing with complete horror that he was making fun of me and my physically challenged limbs.
"Are you making fun of my disability?" I said between chokes of laughter. I was completely appalled but couldn't help but find his lack of boundaries insanely hilarious. "Are you really making fun of the fact that my legs hurt so bad sometimes that I have difficutly walking? Are you serious?!"
"What?" he said. "What?" he repeated in a tone that said clearly showed he saw no wrong in his actions.
At this point I was blubbering and giggling so bad that I feared my eyelids would flip inside out and pop my contacts out on to the carpet so I just shoved on his behind until we were safely up the stairs.
"What?!" he kept saying.
To prove how NOT wrong it was to make fun of his wife's lofty limitations,my dear sweet husband then, in this order: pinned me by my wrists in the kitchen, put me in a headlock in the living room and then steam-rolled and mounted me in the bedroom (and not in the fun way either) until I told him I was not mad at him for making fun of a handicapped person.
So there you go, honey. As we drove around in your car tonight, over the hill and through the woods to Grandmother's house we'd go to pick up your Halo 3 action figure you turned to me and said "Well, I had to read the Herald Dispatch today because someone hasn't posted a blog since 'Matt v. Ben'!"
And here endeth the lesson: Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it....