(My husband and I are walking through the mall, on our way to buy a birthday present for a friend. My husband and I don’t really have a preference for fancy jewelry. For example, my engagement ring had an opal instead of a diamond, and our wedding bands are sterling silver with acorns and oak leaves. We are laughing as we walk hand in hand. As we pass a jewelry store, this happens.)

Sales Lady: *with a huge smile* “Helllooo!”

(My husband nods back as we are walking.)

Sales Lady: *waving us over* “Come on over! We have some great deals for the holidays!”

Husband: “Nah, she’s not worth it!”

Sales Lady: “What did you say?”

Husband: “It’s fine! SHE’S NOT WORTH IT!”

(The look of horror on the sales lady’s face is priceless as we merrily walk by.)

Me: “Next time tell them I’d just pawn it for drugs.”

(My partner has recently suffered a nervous breakdown and their therapist has ordered them to take a day off — absolutely no work, and nothing stressful. My partner is a huge fan of surprises and hates finding out about presents early.)

Me: “If I find out you’re doing work, I swear, I will send you photos of your birthday present.”

Partner: “You really got me there, love.”

(My husband has two hearing aids, and I often forget about them in the early morning before he puts them back in after showering, which makes for some interesting conversations. He is also terrible about sorting clothes when he puts laundry away, so things like socks and underwear always end up in the wrong place.)

Me: “Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? Do we have anything going on?”

Husband: *not hearing, and pulling something out of his drawer* “I have a pair of your underwear.”

(Glad those will be going on tomorrow!)

(I am a fairly large-chested woman. My husband and I are medieval re-enactors, discussing the type of costumes I’d like him to make for me. We’ve settled on a style of men’s clothing that includes a codpiece.)

Husband: “I promise I won’t go overboard on the codpiece.”

Me: “Thank you. I’d like to enter the room at the same time as it does.”

Husband: *indicating my chest* “Just so you know, that gives me a lot of leeways.”

Me: “Fine. I don’t want to see it past my boobs.”

(My cousin is a very masculine, straight-acting police officer. The following exchange takes place in his precinct.)

Officer: “God, my wife is driving me nuts. Women, huh? Doesn’t your wife just make you crazy sometimes?”

Cousin: “I don’t have a wife.”

Officer: “Ah, sorry, I saw the ring. Divorced, huh?”

Cousin: “No.”

Officer: “Oh. Widowed?”

Cousin: “No, I’m definitely still married.”

Officer: *now very confused* “So, you do have a wife?”

Cousin: *starting to snicker at the routine* “No.”

Officer: *as several other cops within earshot also start to crack up* “I don’t understand.”

Sergeant: *yelling in exasperation* “He’s married to a man and therefore has a husband! Jesus Christ, [Officer], how do you expect to make detective with those deductive reasoning skills?”

Officer: “Ohhhhh.”