You might think I make some of this stuff up. I even have a hard time believing some of our conversations. Let’s just agree that our irrational conversations is due to Vince’s inability to carry on a rational conversation and has nothing to do with me, ok? I sometimes blame it on his Sicilian heritage and other times I blame it on his being an engineer. The greater truth is . . it’s probably just because he’s a man.
Background: We moved here 17 months ago. We have not had our tires balanced or rotated since moving here. When I go to Louisiana, I usually take whatever vehicle I’m driving to the tire shop there because my good friend works there. But, I’ve only been to Louisiana twice since moving here. Once Vince was with me and it was a quick trip and the second time, I was only there for three days and didn’t have time to deal with the tires. Last week Vince made an appointment for me to take the Honda in today and the Highlander in tomorrow.
Today I took the Honda which is a 2001 CRV. The spare is on the outside of the back of the car with a plastic cover that says “Honda” on it. You know how anal I can be about things but it frustrates me to see CRVs driving down the road and that “Honda” logo is crooked. I asked the guys to check my spare because . . well, the truth is, it’s now 12 years old. I said “Please be sure you get that cover on straight when you put it back on!” He came in with the cover. It had come apart at the seams when they took it off. I guess 12 year old plastic is no better than a 12 year old tire. The guy said “The spare is brand new!” Yes, brand new as in it’s never been uncovered but I’m not putting a 12 year tire on the road even if it’s “brand new” so I had them order a new tire to match the four that are on the car now. Then I called Vince and told him I needed a new tire cover. Did he want to order one or did he want me to have the tire dealer order one.
So . . then we met at the chicken place for lunch. We were finished eating and the chicken place has ice cream cones. Here’s our conversation:
Vince: Are you getting an ice cream cone?
Me: No, I’m freezing. Did you find a tire cover?
Vince: Yes, I can order one from Amazon. (He’s getting his ice cream cone).
Me: How much are they?
Vince: Free!
Me: Huh? Tire covers are free?
Vince: No! Ice cream cones are free!
Then, we’re walking out and he leans over to kiss me goodbye. There are families sitting around but it’s just a peck.
Vince: My lips are HOT!
Me: Stop! There are kids sitting here.
Vince: I ate spicy fried chicken and my lips are burning!
Gotta love a husband with hot lips! 
hot lips! *chuckle!*
OH Judy, my sides are hurting I’m laughing so much!!!! Hot lips Laquidara! roflol! Vince has a new name!
And since having lunch with the two of you I can just picture this conversation!
Judy… you fractured me on this posting ..what an interesting life you have to have with that man.. I will be
chuckling in my sleep over this one, Love your blog.
sounds like some of my ‘crystal ball ‘ conversations!
definitely a “man” thing
my dh changes the subject and I can’t tell the difference till I answer something about first conversation then “he” gets frustrated – lol
See, that’s the stuff that good marriages are made of! LOL. I think Vince needs a T-shirt with his new nickname. We had a similar exchange between DH and I last night, but I’m not blogging about it.
Thanks for the chuckle. I’m going with it’s because he’s a man. Though maybe there’s an influence from the other factors. LOL
So are you getting a tire cover? =)
Kudos to a man with ‘fire’ in his lips ;p
“Hot Lips” Laquidara! My husband and I are sitting here cracking up.
Hahaha I can’t stop laughing…hot lips with a chicken following him around. This made my evening. Oh and let.s throw in the green shirts just for grins and more giggles.
Yup……he’s totally a guy!!!!! LOL!
Oh my goodness, I wonder if he is related to my DH? ha I’ve heard similar conversations around here. grin. Ya gotta love them though!!!
Laughing so hard. I love those Vince stories. Ya’ll are so cute!
LOL. When I was a cute young thing, the bartender at the college watering hole would always try to give me hot cherry peppers and then tell me to go and kiss a handsome young thing in the bar. Of course, I always refused — the kisses, that is. The peppers were really good! ;P
Love it!