Posted by: stillironic | April 5, 2010

Till Skyped Do Us Part

sock puppet

Captain Sockie

If your spouse gambles away all the money, he’s protected by the poorer clause, so to speak, of the wedding vows. You know, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, etc. If he gambles away all the money, then borrows from loan sharks who break both his legs when the first payment is late, he’s protected not only by the poorer clause but the in sickness clause, too.

The cover of the sickness clause even protects bizarre acts of nature, for want of a better term. Like when a spouse decides he’s really Louis XIV of France and expects to be addressed as “your royal highness.” Or when he’s still wearing his Batman costume though Halloween’s been over for months. However, if he does both of these things simultaneously—proclaims to be Louis XIV while dressed as Batman—even divorce lawyers, I think, would agree that all bets are off.

So when my spouse decided to communicate with me as sock puppet, I figured that would probably fall under the in sickness clause. However, when he started to communicate with me as a sock puppet via Skype, I decided I needed a professional’s opinion.

I don’t have a lawyer and I don’t know anyone who plays a lawyer on TV. So I consulted my dry cleaner, Mr. Chen, who has lots of lawyers as customers.

Mr. Chen asked if my husband JJ, or Captain Sockie as he now prefers to be called, had started talking to other people as a sock puppet. As far I knew it was only his business clients and the IRS. But how could I really know; I don’t follow the man (or his sock puppet) everywhere he goes. I did tell Mr. Chen how it was touch and go the other night when JJ, er the captain, got kind of frisky and suggested a three-way with him, me, and a Skype emoticon.

Then Mr. Chen, who seemed to be losing his patience—not the behavior you want in a counselor; but then again he was working pro bono—asked me if I wanted to become some kind of dangerous weirdo dopehead, too. I told him I didn’t think the captain was dangerous, except maybe in the sense of driving his business into ruins. And in provoking the IRS, which has totally no sense of humor. The weirdo dopehead thing I let slide.

I have to admit the first time was kind of funny. Not the first time we had sex, which was funny in a screwball-comedy way of its own, but the first time Captain Sockie Skyped me.

There I was on the computer in my bedroom office upstairs and he (it?) calls from his (its?) computer in the home office downstairs. I don’t know about you, but being constantly Skyped by your spouse while you’re both at home is annoying as hell. Can’t he store up his thoughts and questions and tirades about Tea Partiers and wait till I come downstairs for some hot chocolate and/or double stuf Oreos?

So when the sock puppet popped on the screen sounding like a woozy Homer Simpson, in falsetto, I LMAO. Which apparently gave JJ the idea that keeping up this charade would keep the laughs coming.

And it did. For at least three days.

When Mr. Chen proved of no help, even with his slew of lawyer customers, I finally resorted to taking the low road: I posted a screenshot of Captain Sockie on Facebook, announcing my hubby had lost his marbles.

And a friend responded, “Cheer up, it was only a matter of time.”

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Responses

  1. Love it. Thanks btw for having me on your blogroll- you are now on mine as well. Cheers, yo!

    • You’re my first link in! I’m like crazy happy! Not just LIKE crazy happy. Crazy happy. And crazy…


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