Superfrydad and I were watching something on TV & this little old lady was interrupting a broadcaster and tapping on his arm to get his attention while he was trying to talk into the camera.
Superfrydad says, "Look at that old battle-ack."
I snicker and say, "It's battle-ax, not battle-ack."
He says, in a most annoyed voice, "No it's not."
He says in a high pitched voice, "It's Battle-ACK! That's what everyone says! You're wrong, there's no such thing as a battle-ax."
I laugh like I've never laughed before because I realize that he is dead serious. Nothing I said could convince him that he was wrong.
Then he got mad,
"Battle-ackin', crack-a-lackin'" (said in Marty the Zebra's voice from the movie Madagascar)
"Men, it's time for us to fight! Get your Battle-ACKS & defend yourselves!" (said with an accent a la Braveheart. Try it, it's hilarious.)
Finally, he conceded and admitted that I was right.
But only after I hounded him for several minutes and nearly choked myself laughing. Thankfully, we do not own a battle-ax, so he could not fling it at me.
These are the moments in life that I cherish, because I love to be right. I love to be right even more if Superfrydad is wrong and double points if it's the hilariously funny kind of wrong.
Not that battle-axes come up in conversation much around here, but I am patiently waiting for the moment when it's appropriate to make fun of him again for this. I might have to go see some kind of man-war movie and then I could lean over and whisper, "Honey, is that thing that Viking is holding called a.....battle-ACK? bwahaha!"
It would be a win-win, because not only would I get to say "battle-ack", I would get to eat popcorn too. Excuse me while I go check the "Now Playing" at Fandango.