The arrival of the local newspaper and the anticipation of reading the most recent comics is an integral part of my husband’s daily routine. He purchases a subscription when “specials” are offered for direct delivery to our home, and for the occasional hiatus of the newspaper at our door, he downloads the comics to read on his computer.
Over the years, we have had a running “shtick” back and forth as he presents his favorite comics to me in the ever-hopeful expectation I will finally “get one.” What tickles his funny bone is considerably different from what gives me a chuckle, and if Tom needs to provide me with an elaborate explanation the humor simply falls flat.
From my perspective what he considers humorous I often view as lame, and he has occasionally wondered aloud as to whether I even have a sense of humor. Our ongoing banter has its ebb and flow as he gives me one of his personal favorites to read, confident it will finally elicit the desired reaction. At times it seemed he was getting closer to identifying what I actually found funny, but alas, he did not… until Valentine’s Day.
Sometime during the night while I slept, he quietly placed the printed valentine on my night table and when I awoke the following morning I noticed the tell-tale 8 1/2″ x 11″ sheet of white paper beside me. In the dim light of morning I fumbled for my eye-glasses, thus allowing me to read “my valentine”… and to my great surprise I got it right away! The Valentine’s Day comic captured my sense of humor as well as painted a picture of our lives, and for a brief delightful moment, his sense of humor and mine were the same.