why my life still makes me laugh

so, on our last night in the city, we saw an off broadway show and then bar hopped and played cards for the rest of the evening. 

it should be said that my great-grandmother taught me how to play progressive gin when i was 8 years old.  i was gonna go pro, but was sidelined due to a shuffling accident when i was 12.  i now have to settle for intramural cards.  

stubby hubs hunk is good at everything he tries.  it kills him that i ALWAYS win. and not just by a little.  we’re talking major rump busting.  so of course i’m a gracious winner…um, or at least i try to keep the cackle to a dull roar. oh, who am i kidding, i revel in the smack down. it’s me doing the butt cheek dance on the bar stool.  him? he can’t figure it out.  see, when you’re married to a bright bulb, they are always gobsmacked to find that you can do something better than they can.  

so he’s all questions: 

how do you do that?  

i don’t think it’s luck, but how can you do it every time?

me: dunno. maybe you need to shuffle better

him: no. i always lay down first, but you finish strong.

me: yeah, i dunno. maybe i have a strategy.

him: really?!

me: yeah, what i do is….

him: no, no, i don’t want to you giving anything away. i’m gonna figure it out on my own.

me: yes dear

giggle,
e

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