#02: The Quickie
As you may or may not have read in my last (and inaugural) post, I am in fact a nerd. I am also a dad. Being a nerd as a dad is brilliant. I am quite literally one of the coolest dads around, in my kids’ eyes anyways. I take my daughters to the local comic book shop, I teach them all about Star Wars, and we get to play board games together. The Enchanted Tower is a big hit at the table these days. However, I am also a husband. While being a nerd may win you Father of the Year awards, it’s a little tougher to sell how cool it is being a nerd to your wife. I know from experience. It takes a lot of wearing them down; implacable, relentless badgering really.
I’m not going to bore anyone with the nitty-gritty details of how I convinced my beautiful, sophisticated, and extremely understanding wife that being a nerd is in fact cool. I’ll save that for my next Best Seller. Geeks will literally pay an arm and a leg to get their hands, or hand, on that book. So, I am going to skip ahead and prove that my once fruitless endeavours have, in fact, paid off. Not only have I convinced my wife that being a nerd is pretty neat (yes, I said “neat.” I’m a nerd remember), but I think I may have converted her into a nerdess. Why don’t you be the judge!
It was Friday night and we had just got the little ankle biters to sleep. It was about 8:30 and I just put on my pajamas and settled into my favorite chair to watch the Game of Thrones episode I had recorded a few days earlier. Friday night and I’m at home again, because that’s what nerds do! I mean parents! No, I mean nerds…..
Since my second daughter was born 18 months ago, my wife and I haven’t had much “alone” time. It was at this moment, kids asleep, house quiet, and both of us miraculously still awake, that my wife decided to make her move.
“Honey?” she seductively inquired from the hall.
“Uh-huh?” I responded. I know what you’re thinking, it wasn’t the most eloquent of ways to respond to one’s marital partner, but I’ve been out of the game for a while.
“I have something important to ask you.”
Now, when my wife says she has something important to ask, that means it’s time to turn the TV off. I’ve learnt that lesson the hard way. “Yes dear. What is it?” I turned to look at her and I could see her sheepishly grinning, as if she had something on her mind, but wasn’t quite sure how to express it. “What is it dear?” I asked again, more intrigued than before.
She paused. Looked coyly at the TV set even though the screen was black so that our eyes would not meet. She then turned to me and looked deep into my soul. Ever so carefully choosing her words she said, “How about a quickie?”
Without answering, I rose, walked straight toward her, gently led her by her arm right to the dining table, and did what any man of my character in the same situation would have done. I took Splendor from my Nerd Shelves because not only is it my wife’s favorite board game, but it is also one of the quickest, and that is after all what she asked for, a quickie.
Surprisingly, I am still alive to inundate you further with my tales of comedy and tragedy. But even more surprisingly, and here comes the point of this extremely gratuitous rambling. When my once refined, cultured, almost regal wife asked for a “quickie,” her thoughts were indeed pure, and she had every intention of playing a board game.
So, I now ask you. With all my years of relentless baiting, scheming, and tempting; persuading, seducing, and enticing; convincing, swaying, and let’s face it, nagging. Has this massive undertaking finally paid off? I think the proof is in the pudding!
