It’s a Sunday night, exactly like this one except a little earlier in the night. Gene and I are making supper. Gene’s current favourite CD is playing in the background for the eight millionth time in a row. He’s having a blast singing along. Then he gets the lyrics wrong in one spot. It struck me as funny, so I laughed. The natural thing one does when something funny happens. You see, the original line goes “…Like a train on the edge of the town.” Gene sang, “..like the edge on a train of the town.” Then I got to thinking of the guitar player from U2 being on a train, and that was funny to me, so I laughed. To explain that part of it to Gene would have been too much though. That was nothing compared to what would happen next.
“Are you laughing at me? Why did you do that? You’re a Christian.”
“So are you,” I wanted to say. But I just went with, “I’m sorry.” It’s the safe bet in any conversation.
“Laughing at people isn’t going to get you anywhere in life. No wonder your friends are only online, and you don’t have any semblance of a love life, since you would laugh at any girl who would come by.”
Oh no! Hitting me where it hurts. My lack of a love life! I’m trying so hard not to laugh at this point. Then Gene goes for my past. “I’m surprised that you didn’t get beaten up when you were little…laughing at all your friends.”
At this point I apologize again and try not to make any more noises for the rest of the night.
I had already been previously called out when I yawned earlier. “You don’t know what it means to be tired. How can you yawn!” You see, Gene has spent over thirty years of his life being a truck driver. Therefore, anyone who hasn’t done that can’t possibly ever really be tired.
I’m sorry, Gene, I will endeavor to be full of energy, all the time, from now on. However, you won’t like that.