I Bought a Book with a Hiccup

The tiny two-and-a-half-burner stove is spitting and puffing as I attempt to cajole it into boiling a pot of eggs for breakfast. Sunshine is breezing in through the balcony door, openly declaring that it's past our normal breakfast time. I don't mind, because it's Saturday.

On the narrow street outside, a truck passes slowly by with a large horn positioned strategically on the front, declaring some sort of advertisement in Greek rather loudly.

I have sat down to write to you because my husband thought I should definitely, most assuredly, tell you about the time that I became part of a most hilarious phenomenon and managed to buy a book with a hiccup.

I can just about see your eyebrow curling to the North like a curious boy running up a hill. A hiccup?! Seriously now. Who ever heard of such a thing.

Nope, I’d never heard of it either. Not until I met Jonathan.

Which leads me to the question: What Do You Do With a Hiccup?

Photo from Pixabay.com

When my husband gets hiccups, normally his case never advances to the plural, jerking to a stop at hiccup. Thus, it was with intense consternation that he discovered his darling sweetie getting swept away by a hiccup stampede, run over and barely able to calmly catch her breath. “Did you ever try sucking in your breath after the first hiccup, and holding it in place for one minute?” He wondered. So I tried it. Alas, no success. For some unfortunate reason, the methods which he found to be quite foolproof left me hiccuping helplessly as ever. So, one day several years into our marriage, he decided in spite of my doubts to try one last method for dispelling hiccups which he had found to be quite inevitably prone to success.

Based on the theory that if you want to hiccup you can’t, it goes as follows: “If you do another hiccup in the next ten minutes, I will give you ten dollars!” - or whatever lure you know will be enticing to the hiccuper.

The first time he tried it on me several months ago, I didn’t even try to hiccup. I figured this is a splendid way to get myself a little treat! I will pretend the splendid offer didn’t exist, wait a minute or two, and hiccup my way into success. I waited, and waited; but no hiccup would venture to even get close. I meditated on whether or not I should do a fake one and see what Hubby would do, but when ten minutes rolled around, I had not a hiccup to declare.

In the last several months, the Hiccup Dare has been proved to work right charmingly.

Until this week. I don’t know if it has to do with the breezy Greek air, or the fact that my husband offered to buy me an eBook that I had lost my initial craze of interest in. I was in the throes of involuntary throat spasms accompanied by the most ungracious noises when Jonathan offered the aforementioned prize. Imagine our mutual surprise when HICCUP! And the promised book was mine.

After my man calmed down his fit of laughter he set about to analyze the situation and publish a new and improved theory on The Best Way to Stop Hiccups.

In case you're wondering, we found it incredibly unfortunate that Amazon hasn’t yet legalized hiccups as a viable currency, so my poor hubby had to dip into his pocket for the book.

The intended moral of this short tale is easy. First, when making theories about hiccups, always leave a line at the end for an addendum or two. Secondly, make theories about hiccups. It’s good for your marriage. It works like a medicine (unless you refuse to end failed attempts with a tickling match).

Have a good week everyone, and may life’s hiccups be few and far between.