“He never knew when it was coming.”
I learned last week that there is one thing about me my husband would change if he could.
Not the size of my breasts.
Not my inability to control myself around a bag of corn chips.
Not the way I start reading his library books before he is finished with them, or try to kiss him when I am still wet from the shower, or my lax attitude towards filling the car’s gas tank. He wouldn’t make me younger, older, or smarter, or funnier — which is saying something because I never get his jokes and can’t remember punch lines.
He would, though, put me in a coma, open up my cranium, and reach deep into my brain to find the switch that is responsible for my sneeze so he could disarm it.
My sneeze, he says, shrieks through him like a three-second hurricane, leaves him shuddering, makes him wonder about me in ways that, if I let myself think about it, might find disturbing.
So I don’t.
I do, however, make an effort now. I not only cover, I run from the room. I try to keep the sneeze all in my nose so when it detonates the only sound he hears is my whimpering as my sinuses implode.
This is a public service message. The marriage you save may be your own.
At least I do not sound like a chicken. Here is a chicken sneezing:
By the way, did you know that…
Sneezing does NOT stop your heart (although it may bring the hearts of those nearby to a screeching halt)?
You can sneeze at 100 miles per hour?
People can’t sneeze in their sleep but some sneeze when they pluck their eyebrows?
For these and other fun facts about the big Ah-Choo click here.
For heaven’s sake, don’t hold it in….imagine the mess it will make when your head explodes??
Loved this! So funny!!
Love the blog thanks
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Bless you!
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ah, i can so identify with this, betsy. i’ve been told that my sneeze is ‘like a cowgirl on a roundup.’ i also sneeze in response to the eyebrow thing as well as when i first go into the sun. what can i say?
So, Beth, you are cowgirl, tweezer sneezer? And the sun thing, I think, is called being “Photic” — cool. You are the total woman.
wow, good to know )
I call them “Solar Sneezes” because I’m addicted to alliteration.
I didn’t know that about the eyebrows. I’ve heard that looking into the sun makes about 1/3 of us sneeze. My hand soap makes me sneeze.
Tiffany is a small person – 5’0, 105 lbs – but her sneezes are monstrous gales accompanied by booming thunder.
Maybe that says something about the power of the person. If their sneeze is so strong, imagine what the rest of them can do!
Oliver, your insight floors me. OF COURSE that is what it means when a person is a strong sneezer. I’ve just shared your comment with my husband who emitted a resigned sigh.
Just remind him that your sneeze makes you unique. The sound and force of your sneeze couldn’t be anyone else’s, it is distinctly part of your charm. Will you now retaliate and tell your husband what you would change about him?
I thought about telling him the one thing but couldn’t decide between his disdain for closure (places all the tops on bottles and jars without tightening them) or the way he hides the remote control and refuses to let me hold it. So, I figure if that’s all we have to worry about, we’ll be fine!
Fun, witty and friendly, just like you Betsy!
Funny! That must be one heck of a sneeze! 🙂
My wife has an… interesting sneeze too.
Must a gorgeous woman thing…