My wife, Gail, puts up a with a lot from me. With my, shall I say, unusual, sense of humor, she has to. Or she'd just kill me.
How do I annoy thee? Let me count two ways.
We were driving up north to our place in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula when I began singing Johnny Horton's classic Sink the Bismarck, which he wrote for the movie about the Allied pursuit of that famous German battleship from World War II. I sang the first two verses along with the refrain and then stopped, the third verse having slipped my mind.
After a couple of miles Gail asked, "Well?"
I, having no idea what she was asking about by then, answered, "Well what?"
"Aren't you going to finish the song?"
"Um, I can't. I forgot the third verse," I replied apologetically.
"But I want to know what happened!" she demanded.
"They sank the Bismarck!" I responded incredulously.
My cheek still hurts from the smack it received.
On another occasion, we were at home at the dinner table eating fish patties. For some reason Gail had the box in her hand, and she read to me, "Do you know that one of these patties has 150 calories?"
"Really?" I asked. "Which one?"
So now you why Groton's is tattoed on my forehead.