Husband: I think when I go to Brazil I’m going to leave my wedding ring at home.
Me: You what now? Why would you do that?
Husband: In case it gets stolen. Carl heard of people being robbed of their jewellery.
Me: Carl will have only been wearing his for a week. That seems a bit swift to want to take it off before he’s even got it.
Husband’s friend is specifically getting married just before the World Cup in case anything happens to him in Brazil. Apparently they’re staying in a favela in Rio and from the footage I’ve seen it doesn’t look overly friendly. Still, nothing like a bit of romance, right? ‘Will you marry me in case I die on a football trip?’ Not exactly proposal of the year, is it?
Me: Besides, if Carl is getting married just before your trip, doesn’t that technically mean you’re going on his honeymoon with him, rather than his new wife?!
Husband: I suppose so, yes.
I thought I got the short straw when Husband celebrated his 40th in New York with friends rather than me because there was a football match involved. But I think Carl’s fiancé has pulled an even shorter one on the husband front.
Husband: But they’ve had loads of weekends away this year. And they’re off somewhere else later in the year.
Me: A few weekends away does NOT equate to a fortnight in Brazil. And besides, it should be their HONEYMOON, but instead it’s YOU and 22 men kicking a ball about on a pitch. And that’s after a quickie registry office affair that no one’s invited to?
Husband: We should send them a card.
Me: I should send her a condolences one.
Husband: She’s never been into the idea of marriage though. It’s no big deal.
Me: Then why did she say ‘yes’? I’m sure they could have got an insurance policy that would still pay out to her when you two get caught in gun-fire.
Husband: I suppose you never can tell with women.
Me: I’m still not convinced by your wedding ring thing though. What with all those Brazilian women in thongs doing the samba.
Still, at least you can get your ring off. The Rio gangs would have to cut mine off, or more likely chop my finger off.
Husband: Why’s that then?
Me: Because I’ve put on weight. My hands have got fat and I can’t get my ring off.
Husband: You haven’t put on that much weight.
Me: I have. I weigh as much now as I did when I was pregnant with Noodles.
Husband: Bloody hell. Is there anything I can do to help you lose weight?
Me: What can you do? Stop buying me Kit-Kats?
A pause whilst I contemplate his stinginess and parental laziness relenting in the face of his fat wife and him both paying for gym membership and agreeing to watch the kids whilst I went. Yeah, right! Never. Going. To. Happen. Then something better occurred to me…
Me: Actually, there is something you could do. You see, I’m sure my weight gain can be attributed to my Pill. I’m always heavier when I’m on it than when I’m not. So you could have that VASECTOMY that you were meant to get sorted just after I had Noodles.
And THAT is how you kill a conversation in its tracks.