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Never believe anything my husband tells you. For example, when new people come to the studio and ask if there’s a bathroom, he says, “Yes but it takes quarters. If you need to make change, let us know now.” And when we were interviewing a woman to see if she would be the right person to officiate our wedding, he said, “Now, here’s where things get a little…awkward. See, my dad’s side of the family is nudist, so half the wedding will need to be performed nude, including all the guests and the wedding party. You’re okay with that, right?” Again, I can’t stress this enough: never believe anything my husband tells you. And if you’re a telemarketer calling our house, your day is about to get way more interesting. Take, for example, the telemarketer who called and asked for Budd Taylor.

S (in a hick voice): “Budd? I don’t know no Budd. I’m Ding.”

Telemarketer: “Ding?” (this was a rookie mistake, you’ve opened the door by asking a question, and now S will be off and rolling)

S: “Yes, Ding.”

Telemarketer: “You’re saying that’s your name?”

S: “Yes, first name Ding, last name Dong.”

Telemarketer: “Your name is Ding Dong?”

S: “Yes,” at which point he breaks into song, “Ding dong the witch is dead, which old witch, the wicked witch!” And then he hangs up.

Did I mention that my husband is in need of therapy unique?

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