#Lockout Problems

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.

Me: Cool.

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.

Me: ?

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.

Him: @#$%^%

I repeat: NOT WELL. Please send hockey.

©Tracey Henry 2012