An Imaginary Spruce Goose

Brian and I are chatting yesterday evening after he got home from work.

Me- Dude, I feel like Howard Hughes.

B- …you’ve been building a Spruce Goose behind my back?!

Me- What?

B- Several thoughts on that.  First, that’s an amazing feat.  How did you hide that from me? Where are you storing it?!  Also, how are you paying for it?  With Dylan’s college fund?!  We need to discuss this.

Me- Remember reality?  Because I’ve been handling Dylan’s nasty diaper rash this week, I’ve been washing my hands like 12 times a day.

B- I enjoy clean hands.  And secret wife-built ginormous airplanes!

Me- Well I don’t enjoy hands that are cracked and bleeding.  Or baby bums that just won’t freaking heal!

B- …but airplanes make everything better!  ….right?

Me- You two boys are making me crazy.  I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I start peeing in jars.

B- Just be sure you use jars with child-proof lids.

—–

Note: I reserve the right to paraphrase my life in its entirety.  All of Brian’s dialogue appearing in this work is fictitious, except for the parts that aren’t.  Any resemblance to his actual sense of humor is purely coincidental (probably).

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