The definition of a good husband

Leslie and I have been married for six years now and I'm so lucky to have been able to get to know such an incredible person. Whether or not she feels as lucky, I'm not so sure - because I've gotten to know her well enough now that at times she's putty in my hands (in a good way, sweetie!).

Over breakfast one morning late last year she told me she really wanted to train Fergus to jog with her. Fergus is the only one of our dogs who consistently has enough energy for exercise, but he also happens to be the most obnoxious and he finds the presence of running feet an irresistable prey to be bitten at, herded and harrassed at every step. In other words, a lousy jogging partner.

Now, that guy on Animal Planet says any dog can be trained and I'm sure that's true, but I was also sure that there was absolutely no possibility that either Leslie or I would ever have the patience or time to break Fergus of this habit. I know from all she's accomplished that Leslie can do anything she puts her mind to, but I also know that with everything she has to do in a week, some things just won't happen and this would be one of them. She was sure she could do it, though, so the bet was on.

We've bet each other before, and I lost the most recent one on an issue I can no longer recall but probably had to do with whether or not a particular person in a movie had also been in some other movie, because I suck at that and Leslie seems to have the whole imdb database in her head at all times.

We obviously don't bet money because that's no fun and she makes more than I do anyway. So my lost wager involved a trip to Pritchard Park in downtown Asheville with a group of friends on a Friday night. Pritchard Park is the site of the weekly hippie drum circle, which is a wonderful community event at which people who are free of inhibition and open in spirit join together to create music from the soul and dance joyfully to the improvised rhythms.

Of course, since I am neither uninhibited nor spiritual nor musical nor soulful nor, most emphatically, rhythmic, to pay off my bet I had to join the dancers for a full two minutes. In Asheville, it's the guy with the short hair wearing jeans and a shirt with a collar who's the freak, and when that person is dancing using moves he learned from Charlie Brown TV cartoons, the judgement is well-deserved.

So when Leslie refused to acknowledge the fact that I knew her better than she did in regard to training Fergus, it was my opportunity for revenge. Once, when she'd lost a bet to me before we got married, she had to accompany me into an adult bookstore in Chicago, her hometown. Even though her hometown has about 900 million people in it, she was still terrified she'd be spotted by someone she knew so for our very brief expedition - a single loop through the racks, nothing touched nor viewed - she wore her raincoat with the hood pulled over her head and cinched so tight she could barely breath (not that she would have in there).

So the stakes must be raised. I've always felt she got off easy on that one, so this time she agreed that, if she lost, she would not only have to go into an adult shop, but she'd have to buy something - and then take it back later to try to return it. I'm not sure why, but she agreed. I knew there was no way I was going to lose so it didn't really matter what my own stakes were, but they were pretty bad too. If I lost, she'd get to videotape me doing one of her hip-hop aerobics tapes, which would mean I would never again be able to look forward to hosting a party. But again, no chance.

I gave her a very generous six months to complete her task, and when that came and went without her having time to jog with Fergus more than once, I generously agreed to an extention until Labor Day, with the stakes upped further by her agreeing to bring along at least one office buddy to witness her transaction. Again, she had no time.

So by any reasonable standard, I've won this bet. But, because I am the very definition of a good husband, I have agreed to yet another extention. I didn't even up the odds this time, since at some point this gets too embarrasing even for me, but now she's not playing to win, she's just playing not to lose since my stakes have now been canceled.

I'd actually enjoy being able to run with Fergus too so I'd actually like it if she won. But I'm thinking at this point that's probably unlikely. So even after six years of marriage I'm looking forward to still learning something new about my wife soon: What will she choose to buy in a porn shop?

I'm a little more worried to learn what I'm going to have to do the next time I lose a bet...