(photo courtesy of James)
If you've ever met my husband in person, you know full well that he has some of the largest eyes in the history of all mankind. If his head weighs approximately eight pounds (which according to Google, it does), then I'd have to estimate that his eyeballs alone account for forty-eight ounces of that mass.
What you might not know is that Jared possesses the unique and deplorable ability to throw some incredibly hairy eyeballs with those suckers.
Seriously, if there was some sort of a local hairy eyeball competition in our region, I'd sign Jared up in a heartbeat. You know, I might even spend the prize money before he won it--that's how confident I am in his ability to dominate such an event.
I don't know why, but this morning my husband was in a particularly sensitive mood. Jared's famous expressions were being thrown around like candy from a parade float, and finally, when he had tossed out one too many 'I wonder how far I could toss you' looks, I was like, "USE YOUR WORDS, MAN! USE YOUR WORDS!"
Far be it from me to leave you starving for any details of our personal, marital business--so, without further ado, here is a three act play to recaps a few of this morning's fine interactions:
Jared and the Hairy Eyeball
by Amy B. Lawson
Setting: 5:30am, in bed.
AMY: Good morning, Jared!
JARED: Marrying you was the worst mistake I have ever made in my life. You, Amy Lawson, are my Everest. [said silently with his eyes]
Setting: Jared is taking a shower while Amy is brushing her teeth.
AMY: I need to get some cash so I can pay the babysitter today.
JARED: Why are you getting a babysitter again?
AMY: So I can go to an afternoon meeting.
JARED: How much do you pay her, anyway?
AMY: I pay her $6.50 an hour...half of her age.
JARED: [craning his neck from behind the shower curtain like an angry turtle in heat] That peasant deserves no more than a package of Ramen Noodles and the change in my back pocket! [said silently with his eyes]
AMY: That's what I pay her, Jared. You have to deal with it.
JARED: I wonder where I can bury you in our yard. [said silently with his eyes]
Setting: Amy is handing Jared his lunch in the kitchen.
JARED: Did you pack leftover pasta for my lunch?
JARED: You know I don't have a microwave in my office, Amy.
AMY: So eat it cold. I promise that you won't die from unhappiness.
JARED: My spirit died from unhappiness the moment I said 'I do.' [said silently with his eyes]
I hope you enjoyed my play. If the three act version is an off-Broadway hit, I'm hoping for an offer to produce the eighteen-act version. Trust me, I have more than enough material. And it's all from this morning.