Back in August, Spouse, the Dad, and I made an attempt to hike the Narrows with Dude and Babe. (The Narrows by the way, is a Zion National Park hot spot complete with Europeans and Flood Danger. See Midweek Trip.)
Dude is a friend of the Dad and there's a reason the Dude is called "The Dude." It's because if there ever was a Dude, it would be him. The man reeks of intelligence and poise (a cardiologist for an unnamed establishment with an e-mail censorship problem), coordination and endurance (quite a skier), humor and whit (face it - he's down right fun!)
And Babe? Well, the name just speaks for itself. (That and the Dude addressed her as such - as in "Hey Babe!? Can you pass the pepper?" Or "Babe!? Would you care to square dance?")
So the Dad phones a while back with a noteworthy and relative "Dude and Babe" story. It's noteworthy because - well you'll just have to read on - and it's relative because it involves running and spousal trickery.
The Dude and Babe had gone south (Moab, I believe) to run a 1/2 marathon. Babe was the only one with plans to run.
The night before the race, the two met up with a Friend (don't exactly know who, but this minor detail is not necessary). During their let's-get-to-know-each-other-again dialogue, Friend brought up the race and asked if they were running. Babe said she was. Dude said he wasn't. To which Friend responded with "Cheerleading... huh?"
Dude ran the race.
This story triggered all sorts of manipulating possibilities. I can give Spouse many options whereby the counterpart is Cheerleading! Amazing stuff.
- Would you like to clean the toilet or be the cheerleader?
- Would you rather go shopping or be the cheerleader?
- Would you like to clean the garage or be the cheerleader?
- Would you rather be married to me forever or be the cheerleader?
See? Manipulating possibilities. If only I could get him to wear one of those skirts...