Before I get into the deep, dark secrets my wife revealed to me last night despite keeping them secret for over the past two years -- let me tell you some things about her... (I think with an intro like that, I could pretty much write anything and you would read it just to get to the end of this blog and learn the secrets.)
- The license plate on her car is "FUNKWR", short for Funkweiler
- This blog she created is called 'House of Funkweiler'
- In October, when she was pregnant for a week, she called the baby 'Funklet', a variant name of Funkweiler
- When we go to restaurants, she reserves tables under the name 'Funkweiler'
- When we go hiking, she labels the lunch sacks 'Funkweiler'
- For Halloween last year, she decided we would go as The Funkweilers and had us dress up in my old Funkweiler costumes.
This list could go on, but I think you see where I'm going with this. For those of you who don't know about Funkweiler, well, that's a story for another time -- basically it was my performing name when I was a rock-star in LA, and I would wear 70's clothes and an afro wig as I funked out on my bass. It was awesome...
Anyway, Melba's first experience with Funkweiler can be read about here . (Scroll down to the 3rd of the three stories "The Melba and Sammie Story" as told by Melissa and Sammie.) I should worn you that last night I actually got the truth about the evening spoken of here. I had gone out with her the week before this all happened. That's all she knew about me and/or Funkweiler. 1 date. Next week, ward dinner. Enter Funkweiler.
For the past 2+ years I thought she thought Funkweiler was cool. Why? Well, that's what she has always told me. It was the following week that she first reserved a table under the name Funkweiler. Not to mention she married me. What was the truth, though? When she first saw Funkweiler, she said she was 'embarrassed' for me because I looked so stupid. Then she commented to her roommate, "Please don't tell anyone I've gone out with him."
Melba told me this last night -- kind of on a whim -- and then ducked under her seat fearing she had just done unrepairable damage to my esteem. No. I raised my fists in a triumphant gesture. I don't know why -- I just did. Now I really wish I had worn the Funkweiler costume at our reception :)