I Just Called To Say . . .

After eight years of marriage, this is what our phone calls sometimes become.  I saw that Conway was calling so I answered:

Me:  Jello

Him:  Pudding

Me:  Pop

Him:  Sickle 

Me:  Cell

Him:  Prison

Me:  Cell Prison?  That doesn't work.  You don't say "cell prison"

Him:  OK, cell block

Me:  Block. . . Buster

Him:  Buster . . . Brown

Me:  Out

Him:  Out?

Me: Yeah

Him: Brown out?

Me: Yeah

Him: What's a brown out?

Me:  What Cohen did in his underwear today.  Twice, mind you.

Him: Ok.  Out . . . Field

Me:  Field . . . Mouse

This exchange went on for a while finally concluding with the following:

Him: Whipped
Me: Cream
Him: Puff
Me: . . . Puff? . . . Puff?  Crap, I think you got me!  Anyway, was there a reason you called?
Him:  I was just calling to tell you I'm on my way home.
Me:  Oh. OK.  See you soon.


A few hours later when he was at the airport picking up his sister I called him again.  This time our conversation was much shorter:

Him:  Hello
Me:  I got it!  I got one for Puff!
Him:  What?
Me:  Puff!  You know, cream puff?
Him:  OK
Me:  Puff Daddy!  Get it?  OK gotta go.  See you later.