Yam Stories

I recently figured out that I can never retire, because if I did I’d have no work stories to tell my wife.

Me: And then I talked to this guy in the other department, and he said he had the same problem last week. And he said I should talk to this guy in my department, but I already did that and that’s why I was talking to him.

Wife: Uh-huh…

Me: Now the funny thing was, while I was doing all that, Jeff, three rows down from me, was making everything even worse. You know Jeff, right? I told you about that thing he did at the Company Fair?

Wife: Uh-huh…

Me: Yeah, that Jeff. Not the Jeff I used to work with. Anyway, this Jeff completely went off the deep end and…

Wife: Uh-huh…

I love telling her about my day, and by the time I finish telling her it’s like she was there the whole time. She’s totally hooked in, like I’m her favorite soap opera and she can’t miss an episode.

But if I retire, all that will go away. We’ll be at the retirement home together and she really will be there the whole time.

Me: I had the best thing for lunch today. Yams! I didn’t think I’d like them, but I did!

Wife: I know. I was there.

Me: And you know what made them so perfect? Pineapple juice. They made the yams with pineapple juice.

Wife: I know. I had the same lunch.

Me: And weren’t the yams spectacular?

Wife: No. I hate yams.

Me: You’re kidding. Since when do you hate yams?

Wife: Since forever.

See? How’s my wife going to enjoy the story if she already knows all the good parts? It just doesn’t work. So…I’ve got to keep working. For the stories.



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