Ode to the fan

My husband loves to sleep with both "white noise" and cold air. I prefer neither.

But to keep the peace, it's either the air conditioner or the ceiling fan. Lately I've decided that the fan is the lesser evil of the two, because I can still kind-of hear my children should they call out in the night. And, as Jacquie recently reminded us, it can provide entertainment during the daytime hours.

But still, the awful fan keeps me awake at night, composing bad poetry in my head. Here's last night's ditty:

Dry eyes
Chapped lips
Throat sore
Oh how I abhor
The fan

But what am I to do? My husband is, sadly, an ardent ceiling fan.


Mark, can I use this please? Thx.



Return it?

Oh, don't think I haven't thought about it.

Maybe I'll just resort to a little "fan" humor instead. Because not only is my honey a ceiling fan, he's also a Yankees fan.

A teacher asks her students if they're Yankees fans. All of the hands go up except for one student.

"Okay, Bobby. What team are you a fan of?"

"The Padres."

"Why's that?" "Well, my parents are both Padres fans, so I'm a Padres fan too."

"That's not a good answer, Bobby. If your parents were both morons, would you be a moron too?"

"No, that would make me a Yankees fan!"