Tuesday, August 1

Lex Luthor Wouldn’t Stand A Chance

It isn’t easy being married to a superheroine. My wife has powers. Scary, unfathomable super powers.

Although she is only 5’2”, at night the wife becomes the Incredible Snoring She-Hulk. She can expand to four times her normal size, usurping the entire queen-size bed, magically attracting every blanket and pillow in the room. This leaves Doofus Man a small strip where he teeters on the edge, resting his head on his elbow, shivering and using the dog as a foot warmer. He dares not shove or complain, for more often than not She-Hulk will flail a thirty-pound fist, breaking his nose. If he is lucky, she will not use her super slumber powers to lace the air with weird dream talk in strange tongues.

At daybreak, She-Hulk becomes Ant Queen. Ant Queen uses her fantastic scurrying powers to zip around the house to brush her teeth, clang pots, cook eggs Benedict, reorganize the spice rack, wash unmated socks, cross-pollinate the house plants, water the driveway, pitch a circus tent, and vacuum the ceiling. All at breakneck speed. At 6:00 in the morning. Lazyass Man knows better than to complain too hard, for he is suffering from lack of sleep, and cannot protect himself from the “How Do You Think All This Gets Done” aural blast of her mighty insect powers.

Occasionally Ant Queen turns into Radar Woman. Like when Dunce Man can’t find something and yells “Honey, where’s the can opener?”

“Did you look in the junk drawer?” Of course he looked in the junk drawer. He found an ice cream scoop, various twisty ties, assorted butter tub lids (but no tubs), barbecue tongs that haven’t been used in two years, a bottle opener with that pointy end that no one ever uses, bendy straws, a stray pair of pliers, and a carnival of other plastic and metal objects.

“It’s not in the junk drawer.” With a sigh, Radar Woman enters the kitchen. Using her x-ray vision, she walks directly to the dishwasher, yanks it open, and withdraws the can opener. She hands it to Dunce Man.

“You said it was in the junk drawer.”

“No, I said ‘did you look in the junk drawer.’ Did you even try looking in the dishwasher?” She goes back to her Joan Crawford movie, but not before giving Dunce Man a look that says “How are you still alive?”

Bewildered Man does have one, and only one, kryptonite bullet in his arsenal, but it doesn’t work very well. It’s called Checkbook. Marvel Shopper is almost always successful in countering its effects with her power of Rendering Math Irrelevant. The usual scenario goes something like this:

“I thought you were only going to spend $300 on groceries?” says Bewildered Man.

“I did,” says Marvel Shopper.

“But here’s a check to Grocery Store for $188, one to Mart Store for $132, one to Drug Store for $84, and another to Cheap Store for $17. That’s about $425.”

“So? There was a twenty-for-one sale, and I HAD to buy sandals for the kids, and clothes pins for the dogs, and we ran out of oxygluten, and I needed a new pair of eye sponsors, and you told me to buy deodorant.” Bewildered Man does not try to point out that the kids already have sandals, or that the family doesn’t need the one, much less the twenty, or that deodorant doesn’t really tip the scales from $300 to $425.

“Okay. How much do you need between now and payday?”

“Just staples like milk and bread. Oh, and I need a flumble. About $40.”

“Just let me know before you go,” says Bewildered Man. Later, he will find an out-of-sequence check, taken from the supply in the desk, written for the $40 in staples, which cost $72.

Poor, mortal Stupor Dad watches his grasp on things loosen more each day. Teen Girl has now perfected the Wilting Stare Of Disdain, and the power of Stuff Boys Can’t Complain About. It’s not enough that she’s learning on her own, Mega Mom is teaching her new skills as well. The newest one they share is hypno-power over cats. Insane kitty follows Teen Girl all over the house. Dumb kitty blinks his green-eyed superiority while hugging Mega Mom. Both cats can lull Stupor Dad into petting them, just before puncturing his hand with their teeth and peeing in his shoes. The combined powers of Mega Mom and Teen Girl, along with their untrustworthy feline minions, do not bode well for Stupor Dad’s future. He doesn’t even want to think about their potential mastery over Earsplitter, the finger-shearing parrot.

So, on the female side of the house are Ultra Wife and her inscrutable sidekick, woman-in-training Daughter Thing. Together they display more superpowers than a comic book store. Just to keep the rest of the family guessing, they change powers frequently, secretly adding those that benefit them, while deleting others that might in some way prove useful to the inhabitants of the other side of the house.

On the male side of the house is Clueless Man, with his useless sidekicks Wonder Dork and Fart Boy. Their respective awesome powers are beer drinking, Jedi/Sith trivia retention, and teenage irreverence.

Couldn’t I at least have a utility belt?


tiff said...

In our house the numbers are reversed, therefore my powers need to be super-plus sized, with wings.

And this entry should be in a magazine somewhere, not just the interwebs.

(PS - my verification word is "zxpupfags." Please do something about this ghastly incursion. I'm being licked to death by goth metal fuzzy manicured boiz.

KOM said...

I had feared I was the only one married to a Snoring She-Hulk. Doubtlessly she would use her mental powers to reverse the blame for said snorer and sheet-snatcher, if asked.

We don't have a pointy end to our can opener, but we do have a nicely rusted end to the church key, which I like to use to open cans of liquids. My only apparent superpower seems to be avoiding tetnis from this device.

Robyn said...

Oh my God this was too funny!

I remember when my husband and I were first dating, I would wake up naked and cold, and say "could I have some blanket please, so very cold!" and he would solicitously cover me up and hold me close.

After we were married, he had the bed sheets all entwined about his legs. I poked him, and said "spread your legs, I need to get the blanket". Without waking up, he sits up for a second, laughs, and says "I don't think so!" and drops back to the bed, snoring.

I also have to protect my pillow from being usurped for his pillow fortress. I have woken up to my pillow slowly being taken out from underneath my head. I laugh every time I think about it! When my husband comes to bed, he spends a good 5 minutes shuffling all 6 of his pillows this way and that until he has a pillow Berlin Wall.

I find it all very endearing. Hopefully, he finds my snoring as much so!

Rick said...

Finally, someone who lives in the same altiverse! Once The Twentysome THING went off to find his own dimension, I moved into his room, putting two air locks between myself and the SheSnore. Fortunately, I have the codes to both.

Speaking of passcodes, mine is pvdtpeja. I don't wear either.

Bebti said...

I might actually have something good to say after the tears of laughter stop streaming down my face...

Sarah said...

I use that pointy end - on cans of milk. You know the kind: condensed, evaporated. Oh yeah, and on canned chicken broth.