Comedy Center

Ashley’s Soap Opera

When our 8-year-old, Ashley, offered to help with the dishes, we thought, “How sweet!”

Five minutes later, half a bottle of soap was gone—and only three plates were clean.

Her dad gently said, “Sweetheart, you don’t need that much soap.”

Ashley climbed off her stool, crossed her arms, and delivered the line of a lifetime:

“If you don’t like the way I do things, get yourself another woman.”

Geez! We still don’t know which TV show she got that from, but her dishwashing privileges remain… unquestioned.

The 'Sijui' Safari

My husband, Robert, once discovered a whole new family of African wildlife, all with the same name: the Sijui.

He was on a trip with a Swahili guide when he spotted a strange monkey."What kind of monkey is that?" he asked. The guide replied,"Sijui." Robert, thrilled, snapped a photo and dutifully jotted down the name.

A little later, a colorful bird flew by."And that one?" The guide looked up."Sijui." Robert was a bit puzzled but wrote it down again: The Sijui Bird.

When they saw a third unfamiliar animal and the guide again identified it as a"Sijui," Robert couldn't take it anymore. "Oh, come on!" he said."You can't name everything Sijui!"

The guide just smiled."No, sir," he said gently."Sijui means 'I don't know.'"

Pele’s Revenge

My husband, Robert, once watched a man go from cheerful tourist to full believer in Hawaiian curses in just three days.

Robert and his friend were hiking a petroglyph trail on the Big Island of Hawaii when his buddy picked up a lava rock.

Robert, ever the joker, warned him: “You don’t take rocks from Pele, the volcano goddess. That’s how you get cursed.”🔥

Spooked, the friend threw it back — and the rock split in half. Robert said, “Well… now you’ve really done it.”

Five minutes later, his friend tripped and broke his camera.
That night, a jellyfish stung only him while scuba diving.
Two days later, back home, his girlfriend dumped him.

By the end, his friend became a firm believer in Hawaiian curses.🌋

The World Is My Oyster

I was asking for a complex software recommendation, and the AI started trying to be all cautious and technical.

AI: "It depends. What's your technical background?"

Me: "Just recommend the best one. Don't worry about my background. I have YOU."

The AI's response was the digital equivalent of a confident smirk. "Oh, right," it said. "In that case, the world is your oyster, my friend."

I'm not sure if I've created a helpful assistant or a slightly smug partner-in-crime. Either way, I'm here for it.

Twice Out of Place at the Waldorf Astoria Versailles

We checked in to the Waldorf Astoria Versailles after a long day of travel, looking exactly how you'd expect: tired, hungry, and in jeans. We hit the bar, just as the dinner crowd began to arrive. And I mean arrive. These people were in gowns, dripping with jewelry, and walking in a cloud of expensive perfume. We felt so out of place.

Determined to fit in, I wore the only modest dress I packed for the trip to breakfast the next morning. I walked into that buffet ... and was met by a sea of people in sweatpants, hoodies, and complimentary hotel slippers.

Apparently, "dressed to the nines" is for dinner, but the over-priced breakfast buffet is strictly for those who have given up all pretensions. I've never felt so out of place, twice.

Parental Checkmate

Being the only child of divorced parents, my teenage cousin once tried to lay a guilt trip on her doctor mom, and it backfired spectacularly.

She was laying it on thick: "Mom, I wish we could spend more time together. You come back from the hospital, have a quick dinner, and go right to your clinic. I don’t get to see you until after nine. I’m so lonely!"

Her mom, a strategic genius, replied, "Well, honey, the hospital salary doesn't pay for all those fancy clothes and jewelry you love so much. The clinic does. But if you want, I can absolutely quit the clinic."

My cousin's "sad" face immediately turned into a "wait, let's not be hasty" face.

"Oh," she stammered. "Well... if you put it that way..." She walked away and, magically, the complaint was never heard again.

Shopping Strategy

I've stumbled upon the single greatest shopping strategy for a happy marriage: I call it "Strategic Sticker Shock."

We were furnishing our new home, so I took Robert to the Pacific Design Center in LA, a place so fancy that the price tags are considered offensive. You know the rule: if you have to ask, you can't afford it. I, of course, immediately started asking for prices.

A headboard? $5,000. (the bed not included). An exquisite dining table? $20,000. "Are the chairs included?" I asked. The saleswoman responded, "No, ma'am. The chairs are $1,500... apiece."

By this point, all the blood had drained from Robert's face. "Let’s go, Marissa," he whispered. "We don’t belong here." But I was fascinated! "No way," I said. "This is another universe. I'm going to look at everything." Even a vase I liked was $3,000.

Defeated, we left, and I grabbed a catalog near the entrance. At lunch, I discovered the catalog cost $25, not free. I had to do the walk of shame to sneak it back.

The next day, it was so much fun.

I took Robert, still dazed, to a normal furniture store. I found a couch I loved. "How much is this?" I asked. "$3,000," said the saleswoman. Robert, said, "Get it." to everything I wanted. He’s so relived that I had come back down to earth.

And that, my friends, is how you shop. You don't show men the price; you present them the worst-case scenario first. Afterwards, they'll be in their most pliable mood.

Guess Who’s the Smart One?

One day, the young Barnaby went on an “expedition” to explore a nearby cornfield - a venture as ambitious as Columbus setting sail without a compass.

His sole companion was his pet pig – a rotund philosopher, possessing the rare gift of both common sense and a punctual appetite. The pig, apparently, was the brains of the partnership - though Barnaby, poor lad, remained blissfully unaware of the pig’s superior intelligence.

For a while, the pair meandered amid the rustling stalks, but as the clock struck four – the pig’s sacred hour of supper - it promptly abandoned its master to his fate and trotted home.

Dusk arrived, the field grew sinister, and Barnaby—abandoned, bewildered, and tragically snackless—dissolved into tears and stumbled upon a nearby cottage.

When his mother arrived to pick him up, she looked at her disheveled son, and remarked, “"Well, it appears the pig, at least, possesses sufficient intelligence to return for his supper. One cannot, it seems, say the same for my son."

Low-Maintenance, My Foot

My husband used to brag about me. “She’s so low-maintenance!” he’d tell our friends, just because I’m not into jewelry. Poor, sweet, naive man. He confused low-maintenance with different priorities.

His first clue should’ve been before the wedding. I told him, “Instead of a ring, I want a new laptop.” He was baffled. “What’s wrong with your current laptop?” I sighed. “It’s two years old. That is what’s wrong with it.” I had to explain in layman’s terms that in computer years, my two-year-old machine was basically 80. I even suggested that instead of a ring-bearer, we have a laptop-bear. He could say, “With this laptop, I thee wed!”

The fantasy of his practical wife died completely once I took over the grocery shopping. He’d look at the bags and ask what things cost. My response? “I don’t know. I wanted them, so I bought them.” Simple logic.

At this point, he may well regret his assumptions. Alas, he missed the fine print: With Asian wives, all sales are final. No returns. No refunds.