“You Take the Fun Out of Boredom”

My husband, the Crankee Yankee, is known for many things: he’s the guy to go to if you want anything fixed, he will gladly share his political views (often without being asked), he is a stellar father and grandfather, a wonderful husband, a rescuer and nurturer of all animals, he is honest, kind and reliable, he has the best laugh in the world, and he’s a good-looking devil, too. But one of his best attributes is his sense of humor.

The other day we were talking about the winter doldrums and how much we wished for Spring. We agreed that we both felt a bit stale and needed to get out more and do more rather than just do winter-house-bound stuff. Then we talked about how a sense of humor really helps during times like these that can be rife with boredom and the ‘same-old, same-old.’

So, since it was too late to go anywhere or do much of anything but prepare dinner and watch some lackluster TV, we began complimenting each other. I told him that I appreciated his intelligence and unique viewpoint, and he told me how he liked my sense of humor and my outlook on life. Warming to this train of talk, we moved on to how each of us had positively affected each others lives. We got a little carried away, and the compliments began flying. Just as I thought that my head would explode with my sense of well-being, he said this:

“You take the fun out of boredom.”

HUH?!? I truly believe that he meant it in a good way; that I somehow make the boring times fun, but his delivery was….unexpected. We are no strangers to malaprops in this house, but that one was a doozy.

It got me thinking about other malapropisms I’ve heard over the years, especially my dad’s classic — once, as he drove up to the library, he asked Mom to put the books in the book suppository [depository]. My sister-and-brother-in-law’s neighbor talks about a friend of hers who owns a bull master [mastiff]. She went on to say that the dog had enormous joils [jowls]. My grandmother used to say that, if you’re not careful of your purse, some thief would confisticate [confiscate] it.

I’ve said some beauts myself, but I blame it on my propensity of having temporary “word salad.” That is, I know what I want to say, but can’t seem to say the right word. Hmmm–perhaps I really DO take the fun out of boredom!



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