Sometimes, believe it or not, it’s not him.
Sometimes it’s me.
On these rare and special occasions, he cannot wait to tell me about his Actual Conversation with His Wife. I, in turn, report them to you because that’s obviously what he’s hoping for. Also, I’m worried I’ll run out of material someday, and this sort of thing provides a buffer.
HIM: Do you remember when I came to bed last night?
HIM: I came in all quiet and you said, “What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?”
ME: Well, what were you doing?
HIM: Coming in to bed! So I said, “I’m just coming to bed,” and you said, “What? What? What?”
HIM: So I said (quietly) “Shh, I’m coming to bed.”
HIM: And you said, “What??”
ME: (collapses with laughter)
HIM: So I realized that there was no point arguing with you at that point.
ME: (still laughing) I was asleep!
HIM: I figured that out! I counted; you said “what” nine times, then three, then one, so it was factors of nine.
ME: (literally cannot stop laughing)
HIM: I thought about waking you up to explain that I was just going to bed, but that seemed like a bad idea.
ME: Oh yeah. Don’t wake me up for shit like that. Because I can’t fall back asleep, so I’d be yelling at you for waking me up just to tell me you’re coming to bed.
HIM: And then I’d say, “What? What? What?”
ME: (shakes head) Tch, you’d be sleeping downstairs. Shouting “what” over and over? ‘S a dick move.
And that, friends, is why “What?” is now a loaded question in our house.