At last check, Otto was still carrying only about 17% of the vote in his favor on the cookies-and-milk issue. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s that high. And as I emailed several folks as your thoughtful and gag-laden comments rolled in, I think a part of my objection on this issue is the delivery method. It’s the DRINKING of the cookie sludge that offends me. Were he to eat it with a spoon, I would be less bothered. Why? I don’t know. Perhaps because then you’re acknowledging that it’s not a liquid. Drinking chunky things is just nasty.
ANYWAY. Otto is bearing up under the strain of being COMPLETELY SMACKED DOWN pretty well, and he is not a man given to grudges, but I strongly suspect he accidentally-on-purpose planned out what happened this morning.
For one thing, we’re unlikely to have an entire Otto Week, as previously suggested, because he’s just left town for the rest of the week. The jerk.
That, however, is the least of it.
See, Otto was headed off to a conference, and as often happens with these things, he was taking a number of his students with him.
Let’s pause here for a moment to acknowledge a weird little truth: Otto’s students are overwhelmingly female. I don’t know why that is. And according to him, the demographic of professionals in his field skews heavily male once you’re looking at a few years out from college, so how he ends up with a 16-student class containing one lone guy every semester, I have NO IDEA. But whatever.
So, “Otto heading to a conference with a bunch of students” invariably means “Otto going out of town with a group of cute coeds.”
This is actually fine with me; I’m not the jealous type, nor is Otto the wandering type. Plus I’m pretty sure his students view us both as impossibly old and unhip. Chickadee has spent the last day pestering me with, “Mom? Mom? Really, it doesn’t bother you that Otto is going to take a bunch of pretty girls out of state with him? Really, Mom?” Really, child, it’s okay. Sheesh. (Finally I told her that I’d told all the girls about his propensity to drink soggy cookie chunks, and then she stopped, satisfied that any possibility of hanky-panky had been thusly averted.)
So. The students were meeting here this morning to leave their cars and drive off with Otto, and the first one arrived and Otto was chatting with her outside and then—without any warning—Otto walked her back into the house, directly into my office.
Where I sat here, at my desk. In my pajamas. Specifically: a ripped tank top, no bra, and some drawstring pants which are several sized too large, if you must know. Protectively huddled over my coffee. And I also have a giant zit between my eyebrows, for good measure.
“This is my wife, Mir,” Otto said, after introducing her to me. She, of course, was young and pretty and had skin like fresh cream. Also, she was, you know, dressed.
“Nice to meet you,” I chirped. “We are going to pretend I’m not in my pajamas.” She chuckled and said “no problem” while looking decidedly uncomfortable.
Well played, Otto. Well played.
Of course, Otto’s response had to be that he thought you looked lovely and gorgeous and wanted to show you off, right? Because otherwise, that is just eeeee-vil. Still gross that he drinks cookie sludge.
Oh my, that Otto is a clever man. :) This one literally had me laughing. But to quote another blogger, “Writing well is the best revenge.”
I’d a keeled heeemmm
Bwhahahahahaha. HA! HAAAA!
That is all.
I don’t a jealousy problem but I do have a self-esteem problem (hello, fellow awkward high school years survivors). Therefore, I second Scottsdale Girl’s comment and would have spent my morning watching True Crime television to get ideas and up the probability of getting away with it.
I was waiting for you to continue the story with Otto presenting her as being a secret fan of soggy-cookie-confections. Oh the stress that would bring upon poor Chickie! :)
But I’m bummed about the abrupt end to Otto Week. It was going to be like Shark Week on Discovery Channel, only much, much better.
Maybe all those girls are in Otto’s class BECAUSE it’s Otto’s class! I picture him like my brother in law–definitely way older than college girls, but so cute and funny and smart that it doesn’t matter. I won’t lie–I took certain classes in college because of hot professors!
YOU. ARE. NOT. HELPING.
HAHAHA….guys just don’t think, do they?
I am totally giggling at the idea of Otto having some tryst with all these college girls. Because you know, it’s just SO like him. Bwahahahahaha.
Goodness. I read that story an entirely different way, and it wasn’t until I saw the comments that I realized I’d missed your point. What I thought had happened was that lil miss Peaches’n’Cream had hit on him, and so he decided to show her that not only was he married, but happily, devotedly, highly monogamously married. So he took her to meet the love of his life, his partner, his wife.
(Too bad about the whole ripped bra-less tank top zit thing…)
I have a mental image of Otto a la Harrison Ford in the first “Indiana Jones” movie – teaching a class of impossibly pretty young girls who write “love you” on their eyelids, which they bat at him relentlessly. Heh.
Good thing he’s high-tailing it out of town after THAT. Yeesh!
Ah, Mir, the next thing you know that young miss will be wearing “a ripped tank top, no bra, and some drawstring pants which are several sized too large” because obviously that is the height of fashion for professional bloggers who are married to sophisticated perfessors. Trend SET.
(and yes, well played Otto)
Damn, I’m so good at this revenge thing I can do it without even thinking …
LOL!!! Good for Otto…but I sympathize Mir.
And I have the same kind of husband. After having a boyfriend who cheated on me all the time, I (smartly) picked a husband I don’t have to worry about. **We’re lucky girls!**
Shame, Otto. Shame.
I love Katie in MA’s comment. Hahahaha! Come on you know a bunch of students are coming over and you don’t think you’ll be seen? Seriously though, Shar- I mean Otto week would have ruled! Good times!
Oooooooh, Otto is VICIOUS.
Man, I hate that. My kids do it to me more than my husband does, but it happens more than I’d like. You’d think once it starts happening often, I would learn, and stop walking around the house bra-less and disheveled.
My dad’s a professor of astronomy (not a field with many girls) yet many of his students are female as well. It never ceases to amaze me..
I’m still stuck on the cookie thing. I mean, it’s not even a cookie at that point. It’s vaguely-cookie-like lumpy sludge — you’ve altered the essential cookie-ness of the cookie and the milk-ness of the milk — it’s no longer “milk and cookies,” it’s milkies or cookilk or something.
Well, at least you have the rest of the week to plot your re-revenge. I hear it is a dish best served cold. And lumpy, and sludgy.
“Well, at least you have the rest of the week to plot your re-revenge. I hear it is a dish best served cold. And lumpy, and sludgy.”
Just like Otto likes it!
Whether he realized he was gotcha-ing you or not, that was a good one. Round 2 to Otto.
Hey, I know this lady who has a shopping website, and she always has deals on it… I bet you could find some new tanktops or cutie pajamas!
“She, of course, was young and pretty and had skin like fresh cream. Also, she was, you know, dressed.” It’s another one of those evenings at my house. My husband keeps looking over at me and frowning, probably because I keep snorting and wiping my eyes.
Ahh, Mir. I’m a college student, but I’m currently wearing holey pyjama pants, no bra and a ratty tank. Oh, and my skin is nowhere near fresh cream. I think I identify much better with your side of that equation ;)
Hey, you gotta be able to point and laugh at each other. That’s what makes a great marriage! Maybe. ;-)
First – I WORK at a university and I assure you that normal dress for all of those fresh-creamy type u-grads is far, far worse than ratty tank and pyjama pants – and that’s for class. What poor Otto has to face every single day is unthinkable.
Second – do you know how hard that makes it to actually, I dunno, dress professionally? I mean, when I walk in to 3 muffin-top-with-last-night’s-raccoon-eyes, SEVEN pyjama-with-slippers-and-rat-nest-hair and one teetery-heels-with-painted-on-jeans-and-booberiffic-tank-plus-full-make-up I have to remind myself that I am the grown up (or I play one for my day job) and yes, I do have to shower every morning.
Third – you totally still need to do Otto week. Definitely. I see something collaborative – with Otto-photos?
But, but, what happens if Otto gets cookie sludge on the big orange outfit? That’s got to be a pain to dry clean.
My husband is also a professor (Go ‘Cuse!), and I’m feeling very lucky that most of his students are a) grad students, and b) older than 22. Oy. I’m still dreading the fact that we have to entertain them when the semester starts!
oh, hell to the yes! nice one otto. sorry mir, but it was a classic move!!!!
Several years ago, a friend of my husband’s and mine came to our house to give my husband a submersible pump for his fish tank. While he was there, we gave him a brief tour of our apartment. So, we were newly married and had purchased a large double-dresser with some of our wedding money. My darling, precious, wonderful husband was talking with our (mutual) friend AND COLLEAGUE about this fantastic dresser and pulled a drawer open to show B how cool it was. The contents of said drawer? MY UNDERWEAR. I am still mad to this day. 7 years later.