And That’s How I’ll Die
I was sitting on the couch when I received a text message. I glanced over at my phone and saw it was from my ex-wife.
This is not usually a bad thing. If you’re a fan/follower of me, you know that my ex-wife and I get along extremely well. However, what some of you may not know, is that my wife and ex-wife get along even better.
This is a good thing, trust me.
Maybe too good.
I looked at my phone and it was simply a link to a website:
I clicked on the link.
“Want to go next Saturday?” my ex asked.
We go out quite a bit with my ex and her husband. Her husband doesn’t drink, so this is a perfect opportunity to go out, socialize, and then take advantage of a permanent designated driver. It’s a win-win-win.
I looked at my wife.
“Hey,” I said. “Jen wants to know if we want to go here on Saturday.”
“Oooooh,” my wife said.
I guess that’s a ‘yes.’
My fingers hesitated to push send on the “Sure, that sounds fun” reply I had already typed.
I mean, what could go wrong? It’s just four friends throwing hatchets around while three of them have been drinking and OH YEAH I HAVE BEEN MARRIED TO FIFTY PERCENT OF THE GROUP IN ATTENDANCE. One of whom was half of a divorce settlement and the other one is still mad at me for doing her laundry last week and not realizing not a single item of her clothing is supposed to go in the dryer.
There is a pretty decent chance this won’t end well for me. The last time I was in a room with women holding a sharp objects, it was for my vasectomy. I fear, somehow, that this could go way worse.