Michael’s Evil Genius

I’ve received some comments here and there that lead me to believe some readers out there think I pick on my husband.


Everything I do to him is inspired by survival instinct. Unless you are one of the lucky few to have lived with this man, you have no idea. The only people who can possibly understand what I’m up against are his mother, his sister-in-law (who suffers with his brother), and his ex-girlfriends, most of whom are probably only just recovering after years of therapy.

I can only liken our life to living in the backseat of your parents’ car, during a never ending road trip, during which you and your brother play the “stop touching me!” game — forever.

So, I present to you, a short transcript of my Sunday morning after I am mercilessly hounded to get out of bed  because Mike wants to get our walk in before other people start showing up on the trail, because it makes him insane to see other people on OUR trail.

Scene opens with us entering the forest trail for our walk with the dog.

Mike: (exaggerated sing song voice) Good Morning! To you (pointing with gusto at imaginary person), and you (pointing at tree) and YOU! (pointing at rock.)

Amy stares daggers at Mike with sleepy eyes sitting just above dark, baggy circles. Mike sees Amy’s stare, smiles, and begins again, louder and pointing even more wildly at imaginary people.


Amy: (mumbling through gritted teeth) I want to punch you in the face SO bad.

Mike begins singing theme from Rent! but doesn’t really know the words.

Mike: Three hundred million forty five days, la mumble laaaaaa…

Mike pauses, puts one leg behind him and opens his arms with a flourish and bows.

Mike: RENT!

Mike pinches the air with his fingers in front of him and then draws his hands to either side, like a conductor ending a piece of music.

Mike And… Scene.

Amy stares at ground and tries to find some  way to sleep while walking. Mike slowly begins to slant into Amy until she finds she has walked off the trail and been slapped in the face with a low hanging twig, narrowly missing a tree. She pushes Mike back to his side of the path.

Amy: Walk straight!

Mike: (innocent look) Whaaaat?

Amy: You’re walking me off the trail!

Mike: I never.

(Mike tries to slant again.)

Amy: Don’t even try it.

Mike: What?


Mike: We’re going to need a bigger boat!  (conductor flourish) And… scene.


(Mike flicks Amy’s arm.)


(Mike flicks Amy’s arm.)

Amy: Cut it out!

(Mike tries to flick Amy’s arm, but is blocked by her ninja-like reflexes.)


Mike: The emporer has no clothes! And.. Scene.

Amy: What, are you an actor today or something?

Mike: I like to be called “actress.”

Amy: Really…

Mike: Well, actresses want to be called actors, so I’m reclaiming “actress.”

Amy: You should use that as your platform for some sort of political campaign. “Mike Brunell – Reclaiming “Actress.””


Mike: Did you hear that?

Amy: What?

Mike: Like a squeak.

Amy: No.


Mike burps loudly.

Mike: Did you hear that?

Amy: (sighs)

Mike: (using a radio voice) Did you hear the handsome man? (using a slightly different voice) Who is that handsome man? (sings in an operatic falsetto) Laaaaaaaah!  (followed by a deep baritone:) ME.

Amy: (sighs)

Mike: And… Scene.

Some variation of this Chinese torture happens every day. So, the next time you think I’m torturing old Mikey by wearing the same sweatpants and shirt as him (which he hates) or I purposely put the cheese on his sandwich under the meat (which he hates), understand I am a mere amateur next to the master.

Just yesterday he was driving me nuts when suddenly he walked by and gently touched in my cheek.

“Aw, that was sweet,” I said.

Only to find hours later he had only been wiping soot from the fire on my face.

Amy Vansant

7 Responses

  1. Amy

    I believe you. Anyone who’s heard how men talk to each other should know they don’t really have feelings. Not until you insult their sports team or call their first girlfriend a whore. I vote you continue with the bread-cheese-meat-bread strategy.


  2. Amy Vansant

    Oh he has feelings – for instance, that was sheer glee when he finally guided me in front of mirror and pointed out the black smudge across the side of my face…. The next day I saw he put on a pair of sweatpants that I also own, so I put them on along with a matching sweatshirt. Revenge is sweet.


  3. Lance

    The internet seems to think Bobina is this weet, wonderful, flower of peace and happiness who should be exalted. I mean she’s awesome but the woman busts my aggets like no other.

    Last night, during an alleged “date night” with no children, I say “honey, Belinda Carlisle and Lita Ford have twitter accounts!” she responds with “well, I’ll leave you three alone. That’s old man fantasy, right there.”


    You two are meant for each other, you dark hearted champions.


  4. Tressa

    This is why, as a matter of course, my sister-in-law gives my brother a wet willy everytime she walks past him.



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