When Couples With ADD Argue

Yesterday, when I got ready to leave work, I found a thoughtful note on my car window informing me that my right front tire was flat. I mean flat. So I called Georgia, who was watching Lola, to tell her that I'd be later getting home, while someone here was kind enough to put my spare on. That someone also pointed out that the flat was so bald it had split. "Why were you driving around on that, anyway?" he asked.

Exactly.

So once I was on the road, my cell phone rang. It was my husband, who had just picked up his rental car in Boca Raton, where he was about to make a presentation for work. At that time, he was driving around, looking for an OfficeMax:

Biggy: Someone put your spare on?

TR: YES! How did you know I had a flat?

Biggy: I called Georgia.

TR: Why did you call Georgia? You were supposed to call me when your flight landed.

Biggy: Georgia called me first. I was calling her back.

TR: Well, I thought about calling you to complain about my tire, but I decided not to bother you.

Biggy: I appreciate that. And now it's taken care of, and you're on your way home.

TR: No, now it's half an hour later, which means it's going to get dark, and I'll probably get pulled over for having a headlight out! You know I'm a cop magnet.

Biggy: Maybe if we bought a smaller house that was easier to maintain and got rid of the 25 pets, I'd have more time to change the bulb.

TR: Considering I take care of the pets--BY THE WAY, that tire was balder than Howie Mandel! It actually split. And building little bonfires of raked leaves in the front yard is not what I call home maintenance. Why would you want me driving around on bald tires?!

Biggy: I'm going to hang up now before I get really upset.

TR: Well, I'm ALREADY upset--if you haven't noticed.

Biggy: Oooooh, look at that! One day I'm going to own a Porsche like that. It's a work of art.

TR: I'll bet it has safe tires and working headlights too. Why are you going to Office Max?

Biggy: I need some project boards to mount my presentation.

TR: What are you--in third grade?! Why don't they send you with a laptop?

Biggy: Because then I'd need a projector and---

TR: --which any office should have--

Biggy: But this meeting is at a rec hall. The last time we had to break up a canasta game. No...it was pinochle.

TR: A bunch of old snowbirds, huh? I'll bet the men changed the oil in the cars on schedule and made sure their wives' tires were rotated...

Biggy: And I'll bet those men didn't get old by eating tuna helper and Papa John's pizza.

TR: When will you be home?

Biggy: Around noon tomorrow.

TR: You going clubbing tonight?

Biggy: No, I have twin hookers coming to my hotel room.

TR: Rock on.