As I learn them, I like to share The Secrets to Marriage that accumulate in my marriage arsenal. Most recently I have discovered that whenever Spouse A comes up with a crazy idea, Spouse B’s job is to enthusiastically validate said “crazy idea” while secretly hoping that Spouse A will forget about it in time.

Jeremy does it to me too. Several weeks ago I told him I wanted to be an animal trainer for the movies. I know he was secretly hoping I’d forget that dream and move on. Either that, or he came up with a different solution for me to train “animals,” and his newest crazy idea has all been part of a plot to secretly and inadvertantly make my dreams come true.

Jeremy’s latest dream?

When he mentioned this to me, I’m not sure I followed through with the “enthusiastic validation” part, but I definitely hoped he’d forget about this ambition.

Jeremy’s desire to “Catch ’em all” laid dormant for two weeks, but come finals season and the immense procrastination that comes with, his fervor was reignited like the flame on Charmander’s tail. Jeremy carted me to Best Buy to seek vintage Gameboys to fuel his fire, and when that was fruitless, we investigated Game Stop and Mario’s as well.

Gameboy-less by the end of the night, Jeremy turned his full and undivided attention to Ebay. I fall asleep in the middle of an epic auction for a pair of backlit gameboys and the Pokemon games in various colors (colors? Is that right?).

At 1:40 AM precisely, a sound literally loud enough to crawl from the bottom of the ocean and wake everyone on land, overtook our apartment. Apparently, panting like a dehydrated dog, I sat bolt upright in bed. Jeremy’s eyes casually meandered open.

“Jeremy!? Jeremy!” I gasped, trying to sort through the haze of midnight confusion. “What’s going on?”

Without turning off his EPICLY LOUD submarine alarm, Jeremy (jolted alert by a realization, not by the commotion) pounced on his computer, threw open the screen, and consulted Ebay.

“We lost,” he moaned morosely and went back to sleep. While I can’t remember precisely, I would not be surprised if I turned off the alarm clock.

In the morning, when I was more calm and collected, I woke Jeremy explain the experience. He said not to worry, there were too more auctions at 8:05 and 9:05 AM. And in my calm and collected state, I knew exactly how to react.

I grabbed my pillow. And hit him repeatedly.

And then I grabbed the Nerf Gun we keep next to our bed (from protection from intruders, you know), and shot him copiously with yellow darts.

I shall let the rest of the story explain itself with photographs…

When Jeremy texted this picture out, he wrote, “Christmas!”

And so, perhaps shamefully and yet somehow willingly, Jeremy and I begin our rapid descent into Lame-Lameness. But you know what?