Are We Having Fun Yet?

"When does the fun part start?" I asked my wife, as we were driving home from the hospital yesterday.

"You have to make your own fun," she said, merrily weaving in and out of the HOV lane. "Nobody's gonna make it for you."

"How about Wednesday?" I asked. "Can we start having fun on Wednesday?"

"Why don't you go out to dinner with some of your friends?" she suggested. "You always have a good time when you see them."

"I guess I can do that. I just haven't really been in the mood," I admitted. "Maybe I should go out with some people who aren't my friends?"

"That's a great idea! You should have dinner with Fred and Glynnis and Sharon and Mark," she joked, name-checking two couples from the neighborhood who we kinda hate.

"Yeah, I can do that," I said, "but only if someone also sticks a long needle in my penis at the same time."

"Are you kidding? Glynnis would be happy to! She probably has her own needle. And then you'll have to eat chicken scarpariella and shrimp Wendy," said my funny wife, food-checking the only dishes these people have ever ordered on the few occasions we've been out with them.

"Yeah, then maybe for dessert their perfect kids can come to the table and tell me what great colleges they'll be attending next year," I said, warming to the idea. "And I can tell them that our son couldn't be here because he's currently locked up in a mental hospital."

"Nothing would make them happier," she said.

"This sounds great," I said. "I'm already beginning to have so much fun!"