"Studying Neuro"

Well, here I am again: stuck on the couch all by myself in our lonely apartment because my husband is "going to be out late." He always says that he is "studying for neuro," but obviously that's not true. Who in their right mind would spend THAT long studying neuro?! Doesn't his study group know the stuff by now?!

This is a tale as old as time, isn't it? The husband kisses his wife goodbye right after dinner because he's going to be working late (again) and says, "Don't wait up for me!" He is super romantic when he is home...possibly to make up for something? To cover his guilt? It's completely obvious what is going on. I can't believe I didn't see it before!

Rex has a secret identity.

Now the question is...what is the secret identity? The obvious first choice is that he is a Russian spy. Uneducated people think that the Cold War ended in the sixties, but those who are well informed know that it just went underground. No one likes Russia. Do you know anyone who dreams of becoming a Russian citizen? No. We still think of Russians as Boris and Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle, or as those annoying pre-teen gymnasts who always seem to beat us at the Olympics. That's why the Russians need spies. They need to keep their enemies as close as possible. So it makes sense that Rex would be a Russian spy. He's smart and sneaky. The only issue is...I've known Rex since he was 13. Do they really place spies abroad that young? And he sure does a great job covering his accent. Hmmm... perhaps I will put a tape recorder by our bed so I can hear if he says anything about Communism in his sleep.

If he's not a Russian spy, what else could he be? Oh, I know! He could be a super hero. Maybe he is out late fighting crime. That's why he's been working out so much lately: he has to be able to jump over skyscrapers and stop trains with his bare hands and stuff like that. Well, that makes perfect sense. The only issue with that theory is this: why didn't he ask me to be his sidekick?! I would be an AWESOME sidekick! I can't stand those crazy macho men thinking they can save the world all on their own. He'll come crawling back. Every super hero needs a sidekick. Just you wait - you'll see.

Or maybe he's the opposite of a super hero. Maybe he's a hit man! Ooooh, that one is exciting. Maybe he's a stealthy ninja who works for a local mob. He can take out their enemies one by one. Devoted husband by day, death trap at night. They will make a Lifetime movie about it one day: Rex: The Assassin. It will show clips of him washing the blood off of his hands right before he picks up a dozen blood red roses to bring home to me. Now that's some good irony.

Actually, what if it isn't something cool at all? What if he's picked up some really weird and embarrassing hobby? I am just picturing him approaching me for a very serious conversation: "Christine, I can't live this lie any longer. I haven't been studying for neuro every night. I've...well...I've...um...I've been ballet dancing! There! I said it! I never feel more confident than when I'm in a pink tutu! I can't hold in all of my emotions; I must express myself through the art of dance. I hope you will support me in my dream to become a professional dancer." No, Rex, I won't. If we're paying all of this money for you to go to PT school, you are going to become a physical therapist! (Unless of course you actually ARE sneaking off every night to do ballet. I will obviously support you in whatever you dream of, Honey). ;-)

Oh my gosh are you SANTA?! Is this why you always seem extra busy right around the holidays?! It's not finals week at all, is it? You're getting all of the toys ready for Christmas Eve! The beard, the fat, and the red suit are all a ruse to throw us off of your true identity. Well the jig is up, Rex/Santa. Tomorrow I am telling all of my students that Santa is really 23, not fat, and named Rex. You have a lot of explaining to do. I always knew you were too jolly to be a normal guy. This makes so much sense. Oh, and can I ride Rudolph sometime?

Maybe he got a night job so that he can buy me a really cool Christmas gift (that is, assuming I'm wrong about the Santa thing). I hope it's some really neat-o job like a pug breeder or a pizza taste tester. I hope he's not a male stripper or one of those weird guys that hands out porno cards on the strip. It's not worth it, Rex! Don't give in to the glitter of Sin City just so you can buy me more stuff! Although, if you're a pug breeder, I wouldn't mind that. Can I have a puppy for Christmas?

I am getting off topic here. The point is, my husband has a secret identity! This has the potential to be really cool. If I find out that he's actually been studying neuro this entire time, I'm going to be totally mad. That's so boring. I'm going to go to bed now, and I'll fall asleep dreaming of all of the fabulous things he could be doing. I'll let you know when I find out the truth.