Though Brian and I have been married for over seven years, from time to time we still like to play around as though we don’t know each other at all. For instance, I’ll rattle off a string of questions (“What high school did I go to? How do you spell my middle name? Etc.”) and naturally Brian will get them all correct. Then I’ll say, “What did I have for breakfast?” and he’ll guess wrong, leaving me to dramatically moan and fake-cry, “You don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!”
It’s silly, I know. But it’s fun.
Last night Brian and I were joking around and once he correctly guessed my favorite color (which he’s known for years), I asked him what his favorite color was, waiting for him to say blue.
Me, “What?! It’s not black; it’s blue! You told me it was blue before we were married! That’s why we had blue in our wedding! Yes, your favorite color to wear is black, but black isn’t your favorite color. What’s your favorite color?”
Brian, “I don’t know. I like them all.”
Me, “What if we play the Newlywed Game and I lose because I don’t know your favorite color?! You know how competitive I am! Tell me! Which is your favorite?”
Brian, “Yeah, I’ve got a white truck, a white scooter…”
Me, “Just because that’s the color you like your vehicles to be, doesn’t mean that’s your favorite color. *snort* White. You always balk when I talk about painting the house something boring like white.”
Brian, “If painting the house white would make you happy, then I would do it.”
Me, “But it’s not your FAVORITE COLOR! Brian, you have to tell me! What if my life depended on it?! What if I answered the question wrong and they shipped you back to Mexico?!”
Me, “Yeah, where you’re from… ’cause you immigrated. What if they know I married you so that you could have a green card because I don’t know your favorite color?!?”
Me, “What if my life depended on it?”
Brian, “How would your life depend on it?”
Me, “Well, my side of the bed is closest to the door. If a man came in with a gun and said, ‘What’s his favorite color?’ BAM! I’d be dead. See?”
(You have to understand that this “side of the bed” stuff is a sore subject. Brian has begrudgingly surrendered his side of the bed so that Pregnant Square Piece can be closer to the bathroom at night. Though, he seems to migrate over anyway, forcing me to cling to the edge while no one is really sleeping on my old side of the bed.)
Brian, “I don’t know. There’s lots of them. Purple, orange, blue…”
“It’s purple, isn’t it?” I teased.
“You suuuuuure were happy when we had a purple bedroom. Okay, so far we’ve got black, white, purple, orange and blue. Listen, if you had to see the world in one color for the rest of your life… and I was that color and the sky was that color and the ground was that color and the walls were that color and everything in the entire world was that color, what color would you want that to be?”
Brian, “Yeah, ’cause I wouldn’t want you to change. I like you the way you are.”
Me, “Oh.My.Gosh. Well, technically my skin isn’t the actual color olive.”
Brian, “Then whatever color your skin is.”
Me, “That’s your favorite color?! My skin tone is your favorite color?! Come on! What is it?!”
Brian, “Probably blue.”
“Probably blue.” Puh-lease.
Ladies and gentlemen, it IS blue. Brian just loves watching me squirm while he holds out the verdict as to whether or not I’m right about something.