As a general rule, I don't like comics. I just don't think they're funny.
My Michael loves comics. Early in our marriage he would snuggle with his mistress (The Washington Post) on Sunday afternoons and become amused. Invariably, he would try to share the source of his amusement with me, his beloved wife. Almost without fail the conversation would go something like this:
My Michael: Seriously, Hon, just read this one comic. You've got to like this one.
Me (rolling my eyes): You know I'm not going to like it. I just don't think comics are funny.
My Michael: Come on! Read it.
Me: Fine. (Silently read comic.) Here's your paper back, Jorge.
My Michael: That's it? Come on! That was funny!
Me: I guess I just don't get it.
My Michael: See...this guys does this and then that guy says that. See?
Me: Yeah, I see, I just don't see how it's funny.
My Michael (rolling his eyes): Fine.
Thankfully for my Michael, he has passed the comic gene on to our children and they now chuckle together on Sunday afternoons. I'm fine with that. I, the non-comic-loving wife can happily abstain from comic reading and my comic-loving husband has learned to leave me alone about it (for the most part).
Until now.
Or recently, I should say. My darling Michael has started to write comics. Naturally, I can't politely refuse to read them.
Sometimes, they are a little "comic-y" but several times I have actually genuinely laughed at them.
I even have a hands-down favorite! Can you guess which one it is? Check out the whole she-bang here: http://sticky-comic.blogspot.com
