Wombat in the Fridge

A few days ago, I opened my refrigerator and found a plastic bag marked “wombat” on the middle shelf.

Now, I live in the United States, and even if wombat was a local creature, it’s probably not one I’d prepare for dinner.

No, this is just an example of my husband’s sense of humor: I had roasted a turkey breast and left it to him to carve. He cut it up and labeled it for the fridge.

Other recent discoveries: dodo in the deep freeze and a “cat food” recipe in the mobile app he’s designing.

It’s no secret to my friends and family that I tend to be a little too serious. Oh, I have a sense of humor, but it tends toward the sarcastic or satirical. Slapstick and bathroom humor have never struck my funny bone.

But my husband can make me laugh like no one else — with the silliest and most inane jokes and actions. He has an amazing gift for turning mundane activities into games and finding fun in the simplest moments. It’s a huge part of what makes him such a wonderful father (he wears his Silly Dad label with pride), and what makes him such a perfect balance for me.

Sure, there are moments when “fun dad” needs to get a little serious. Just as there are moments when I forget to laugh at the puns and antics.

But for reasons that I can’t even explain, wombat in the fridge will get me every time.

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