Husbands and Wives

Husbands and wives, Shannon Bradley Colleary
H: Why is your head so much bigger than mine? Me: So it can eat yours.

Are Henry and I the next Grey Gardens?

The latest in my Husbands and Wives Series.

Lately, Henry’s been cooking mushy, formless, tasteless chicken.

“Can you please add spices to the chicken?” I query.

“Like, what kind of spices do you mean?”

“Like, anything that my taste buds can detect that come from the corporeal world and not the world where we’re dead and worms are eating our guts.”

A resentful silence.

“What is that mushy white stuff?” I trepidatiously whisper.

“That’s mashed celery root, also known as celeraic.”

“I thought celeriac was something you take so you won’t have a stroke?”

“Ha ha. That’s Coumadin.”

“Well, did you sprinkle a little coumadin in this celeriac, because I don’t detect any little specs of flavor or color, except for the pasty white pallor a Zombie’s face has before he eats your brains.”

Another resentful silence.

I watch Henry taste his mashed celeriac. Suddenly, I can see what he’ll look like when I’m bent over with osteoporosis; my dental bridge slipping out of my salubrious mouth, while I attempt to change his Depends, as he gums his mush.

Instantly, I get online to order a crate of Bolivian white, six bottles of Mescal, an ex-Chippendales prostitute and a barrel of lube.

6 thoughts on “Husbands and Wives”

    1. Kymberly — I thank you. And Henry’s chicken thanks you as well, which she’s able to do as no one has eaten her. Nor ever will.

  1. Roseanne Salyer

    How do you even make chicken mushy? I love your column.
    You won’t remember this, but a while back (I don’t remember what that column was about)I wrote that my husband was very ill. You sent me a lovely reply. On Feb. 1st he died. He was one of those cooking husbands, also. Only his chicken tended to be a little on the crunchy side, as he thought a 4 lb. chicken should cook for several hours to make sure it was done.
    Thanks for your humor and wisdom. It makes me laugh and cry.

    1. Hi Roeanne — it’s so lovely to see you here again and it means so much to me that I can put a smile on your face. I’m so sorry for the loss of your wonderful husband. It seems that if he and my husband had cooked together we might have had the most delicious, perfect chicken. I’m sending you my love. Keep in touch. xo S

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