The question we get asked most often these NHL lockout days is, “So how are you doing with no hockey?”
And while I cannot legally comment on any specifics, I can reply with a resounding, “NOT WELL.”
I give you a text message conversation between my husband and I on a night when instead of working a game against the New York Islanders, he decided to “help” at home with the two middle children while I took our youngest to a birthday party.
Me: So what do you have planned tonight?
Him: Just ordering a movie and pizza.
10 minutes later
Him: What’s your social security number?
Me: What do you need that for?????
Him: I’m trying to order a Pay-Per-View movie and it’s not working.
Me: Why isn’t it working?
Him: I don’t know why it’s not $%&^#* working--you sound like the operator that just hung up on me twice.
Me: I appreciate your frustration sir, how can I help.
Him: If you tell me there are 9 customers in front me, I’m filing for divorce.
Four minutes later..
Me: Did it get fixed?
Him: Text Matty, I’m using my cell phone to straighten out the pizza order.
Me: I’ll just call the house phone.
Him: Don’t--I’m still on hold with the cable company.
Me: What’s wrong with the pizza order?
Him: I made the mistake of ordering cinnamon “sticks” and they only serve cinnamon “rounds.”
Me: Why does that matter?
Him: It doesn’t unless you’re Archimedes. Which is what I’m trying to explain to them if you’d quit texting me.
20 minutes later
Him: Hey, remember that time last summer when we ordered a pizza and had it delivered to the community pool?
Me: Um, yeah??
Him: So does Papa John because that’s where they delivered our pizza.
Me: It’s November. The pool is closed.
Him: Well, some Tennessee penguins are enjoying some cinnamon rounds right now.
Me: Good thing it’s the rounds--I hear sticks are bad for penguins.
Him: I know where Papa John can stick his cinnamon right about now.
8 minutes later after a panicked text from my son.
Me: Is everything ok?
Him: Yes, dear, why do you ask?
Me: Well, your son just sent me a text saying you were swearing at the lady on the phone. He said you needed “parental control?”
Him: That’s exactly what I exercised when the cable company wouldn’t lift our parental controls and let us order a movie tonight.
Me: I’m on my way home.
Him: No rush, we are watching a movie on the computer.
Him: I told them to stick their cable box where the cinnamon don’t shine.
Me: Uh oh.
Him: We are getting a satellite dish on Monday.
Me: I hope they carry the NHL Network.
2 minutes later.
I repeat: NOT WELL. Please send hockey.
©Tracey Henry 2012