For six years, my sister treated my marriage like a competition she was determined to win. My husband always brushed off her remarks, until one family dinner when he suddenly agreed she’d make a better wife. I thought I knew exactly what he was doing. Then my sister pulled out her phone.
My sister Elsie never learned the difference between a joke and a jab.
She’s two years younger than me, and she has competed with me since the day she could walk. Clothes, grades, boys.
I figured she’d outgrow it.
She didn’t.
She has competed with me since the day she could walk.
Jay and I had been married six years, and every family dinner, she found a way to slide in the same line.
“You know you married the wrong sister, right, Jay?”
She’d say it with a wink and a laugh.
I’d asked her to stop. More than once.
Her answer was always the same: “Oh my God, relax. Do you have no sense of humor?”
She’d say it with a wink and a laugh.
Like I could have survived Jay’s dry wit without a sense of humor.
He says the most ridiculous things with a face like a funeral director, and strangers often can’t tell he’s joking.
That Thursday, while I was setting the table, he held up a casserole dish and said, very gravely, “I want you to know I’ve forgiven you for this.”
Strangers often can’t tell he’s joking.
“For the casserole?”
“For the second helping you’re about to take of my portion.”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll get a portion.”
He nodded slowly, as if I’d landed a serious blow.
“Touché.”
“I’ve forgiven you for this.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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