Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Write in the HUMOR genre (04/12/07)
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TITLE: I'm Not Always Right | Previous Challenge Entry
By Leslie Donnelly
04/13/07 -
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“What are you reading?” Defeated I lower the book. “I’m reading…”, my words don’t come out as I gaze across at my future husband. Where did he come from? He was a new employee who had just come in for his first shift. In those first few seconds God spoke to me. My face turned red and my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. It felt just like I was remembering someone from long ago. Familiar. We have been together every since and one of the hardest lessons for me to learn in marriage has been, I’m never always right.
My husband is very intelligent. From my high school and college grades, I have always considered myself intelligent. However, when my husband came to see my new apartment for the first time he probably wondered about my IQ. He was scanning the art that adorned my walls, which I was very proud of. Posters from Kmart. However, I did happen to own an actual photograph of the Earth taken from the Space Shuttle. This was a beautiful photograph from NASA that I had received from my mother and father. I was very proud of it and never called attention to it because matted and framed professionally it spoke for itself. My husband let out a big laugh. Not quite the response I was expecting.
“What is so funny?”
“That picture.”
“What is funny about it?”
He became quite and moments passed. “You are kidding right?” he asked.
I am confused and shake my head. “It’s upside down.”
My response. “ I never took geography in college.”
Nashville can be worse than the desert in the summer time. I was driving to work and wishing the car air conditioner worked. I spotted something in the road, slowed down, but could not figure out what I was seeing. There were no cars behind me and I knew that wouldn’t last for long so I hurriedly got out and found a huge turkey lying dead in the middle of the road. It is hard to fathom how a turkey found it’s way to the “Music City” about two miles from the airport. My eyes water and I am so sad for this huge creature. I have never seen a turkey up close before and it looked rather beautiful. Cars were now backing up behind me so I fetch a dirty oil rag from my trunk and drag the bird off to the side of the road. Minutes later my husband is getting out of his van, “Now what is it you want me to do?” I had driven back home and approached him quite hysterical and ordered him to follow me. Crying, I am getting frustrated. I point to the turkey. I mean shouldn’t it be obvious?
“I want to put the turkey in my trunk and bury it when I get off of work.” This sounded very logical and humanitarian to me.
In his calm manner, he informed me.
“You cannot put that in your trunk for 8 hours and then bury it.”
I’m really mad now. “Why not?”
“First of all, the smell it will leave and second of all…”
“I don’t care about the smell. I want to bury the turkey.”
“Dear, it is not a turkey.”
This statement stuns me.
“What is it then?”
“It’s a goose.”
I try and save face.
“Well, when I get to work, I will try and call the pound or somebody from the city to pick it up.”
My husband’s eyes twinkle. “Now that sounds like a very good idea.
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You bounce back and forth between past and present tense: a bit disorienting. In this sort of piece, past tense would probably work best.
The turkey story was priceless.