You put your snorkel where?!?

It’s the cannabis fudge. That’s why we’re laughing. (Also, this may have been the first time in his life that David has ever truly been high, because I gave him just a titch more fudge than I ingested – you know, because he’s taller and slightly heavier than I am.) We’re laughing so hard that our abs are aching. ALL the obliques, ALL the rectuses ALL the intercostals.

“I can’t breathe!! I can’t breathe!!” I gasp.

David lets forth another guffaw of laughter. “You must be breathing!” He looks at me very seriously. “If you weren’t breathing, you’d have passed out.” Now, in a whisper, “You’d. be. un. conscious.”

This sends me off into paroxysms one more. “STOP! STOP!!

“How ARE you breathing?” he asks.

“Through my vagina.”

“Really?” He looks skeptically at my lap.

“I have a snorkel down there.”

This confuses his eyebrows. “You have a snork-o-vag?”

“A…???”

“Snork-o… No… that doesn’t sound right, does it? Snork-gina!!” He starts laughing madly once more.

“What? What?!?”

“I’m just imagining the cartoon version of that character. BWA-HA-HAAAAAAA!!! THE CLIT WOULD BE THE NOSE!!!!” Another thought hits him. “Wait… wait… VA-JORKEL!!!“

“Va-jorkel??”

“Vagina snorkel. You’re welcome.”

“VAAAAAAAAJORRRRRRKEL.” I have the perfect song in which this word may be utilized most effectively.

♩♬ VA-JORKEL SONGS FOR VA-JORKEL CATS!! ♫
♬♩ VA-JORKEL SONGS FOR VA-JORKEL CATS!! ♩
♩♬ VA-JORKEL SONGS FOR VA-JORKEL CATS!! ♫
♬♩ VA-JORKEL SONGS FOR VA-JORKEL CATS!! ♩

David is amazed and is most certainly contemplating how he can have me canonized. And then, very quietly, he starts to sing.

♬♩ BE-CAUSE VA-JORKELS ARE AND VA-JORKELS DO ♫
♩♬ VA-JORKELS DO AND VA-JORKELS WOULD! ♩
♬♩ VA-JORKELS WOULD AND VA-JORKELS CAN! ♫
♩♬ VA-JORKELS CAN AND VA-JORKELS DO!!! ♩

Okay, number 1? David can sing – which always makes me happy, but even more so now because I am stoned and my ears are in ecstasy at the way the notes are leaving his throat. And B? After singing this particular refrain, he then recites for me the The Naming of Cats, in its entirety, in this deep, sonorous, over-the-top-sexy voice. Right beside my ear.

“How is it that I have never known you could do that?” I ask breathlessly.

David shrugs.

“In 22 and a half  years of marriage, how did I NEVER know that you were THAT kind of musical theatre geek?”

David looks chagrined.

“I’m not complaining,” I assure him. “I mean, I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on with my own musical theatre geekness… but all these years you could have been whispering T.S. Elliott poetry into my ears…?”

“It’s not like I had a CATS costume in my closet or anything,” he says.

“Anymore…” I snicker.

“I didn’t!! I don’t!!”

“But if you did??”

“Mr. Mistoffelees. Obviously. He can light up his own costume.”

***

It’s only now, reading this back, that the awkwardness of VA-JORKLE is evident. VA-JICLE would have scanned much better in the song’s rhythm but is nowhere near as funny to say out loud.