Something fishy
After Sophie White dropped some clangers in a new WhatsApp group, her husband is now keeping his distance; it’s virtual conscious uncoupling
“I’ve learned that Himself seems to be unclear on the meaning and correct use of emojis”
Being in a WhatsApp group that includes your other half is a curious thing. It’s like getting to watch them out in the wild — you get a new insight into how they come across to others.
For example, since being involved in the same WhatsApp thread, I’ve learned that Himself seems to be unclear on the meaning and correct use of emojis, which makes for some entertaining Himself-watching in the WhatsApp group.
The WhatsApp group in question is the school parents’ group, and symbolises a new layer of adulthood for Himself and me. One I’m starting to think we are, perhaps, just not mature enough for yet. Especially if the following events are anything to go by.
In all the smug smirkery on my part, I failed to realise that Himself was also observing my WhatsApp etiquette with similar feelings of pity and amusement. He started to greet me with, “Ah, it’s queen of the non sequiturs!” after every interaction I attempted on the thread.
“They’re not non sequiturs,” I’d rage back, defensively. “With so many people in the group, the conversation just moves on very rapidly. So what appears to be a bizarre non sequitur, is, in fact, a pithy, razor-sharp response to a comment made by someone else some time ago. It’s not my wit that’s sluggish, they are just very quick with the responses.”
I squarely blame Himself ’s ribbing for the next unfortunate act of wit I perpetrated in the group. The conversation was pinging back and forth about a school request for parents to supply some baby photos of our various offspring. It appeared to be a low-traffic period on the group WhatsApp, which is most likely why I was able to capture a window in the correspondence to land what I deemed to be a hilarious contribution to the group chat.
“Sure, they should just Google-Image-search ‘baby’; they’re all fairly generic-looking,” I typed. Suddenly, the usually bustling WhatsApp group was utterly silent. Oh shite. What have I done?
“What have you done???” Himself immediately WhatsApped me on our private thread. He was gleeful.
“Sheesh, that went down like a lead balloon,” I replied, frantically switching from our thread back to the parent thread, where not one person had acknowledged my joke.
“Well, you just called their kids generic-looking.” “Not their kids, their babies!” I argued. “Oh, so much better,” Himself was derisive. “Listen, you,” I feverishly typed. “You go into that thread and you lol at my joke right now, or I’ll kill you.”
Sadly, Himself was enjoying my WhatsApp downfall too much to rescue me. I punished him with this pie — it’s delicious, but contains fish, which is not Himself ’s fave.