So I think I have written before about Hubba-hubba's propensity to believe utterly nonsensical things when it comes to illnesses and the body. It is sometimes hard for me to remember that this is an extremely intelligent, well-read man. A man who was accepted and attended (however briefly due to my unexpected pregnancy) a well-known law school.
If you told him that the way to get rid of a wart was to soak it in jello, then rub brown sugar on it, a tiny part of his remnant reptilian brain would respond and take over his rational thinking. Yessss, the reptilian brain would hiss. It makes sense, jello to soften the wart and then brown sugar to exfoliate it off. Yesss, this seems like it would work.
I am always trying to fend off strange pronouncements that come from nowhere but out of his ass.
Case in point:
Hubba-hubba was on the couch, watching our son maniacally bounce and run and twist his body into impossible positions. Mr. Personality had also been extremely emotional this morning, bursting into tears for really no reason at all, despite having slept 13 hours straight during the night.
Hubba-hubba looked at me and said with complete seriousness, "You know, I think last night he must have had some kind of hormone release or something."
I said oh-so-eloquently, "Huh?"
"Yeah, you know I think he must have had something like growing pains or something. Because even though he slept so well, he is still crying and being ornery. His boy-ness is really coming out today."
I used to try to refute him, but after so many years, I am simply reduced to an eye roll.
This is life with what I like to call "The Witch Doctor."
I'll take prayers, I'll take ceremonial tribal dances. Just send help.