The special blue pill

I hear my husband running down the hall to where I stood in the bathroom putting in my contacts.

“What is this?” He’s holding out his hand. I look down at it, thinking it’s a receipt or a bill, and I’m already trying to think of a good excuse for whatever it is I spent money on.

However, on his palm I see the usual collection of vitamins, supplements, and prescriptions persons of our age could expect to take every morning, after the final cup of coffee but before the inevitable morning-paper-reading in the “office.”

“What is what?” I asked innocently, but I know what’s causing him to question one particular pill.

“This! Is this one of my…special pills?” His eyebrows are raised.

Our normal multivitamins were red. However, we ran out of them a week ago and while shopping I grabbed the first replacements I saw, which happened to be called “One Daily, Men’s 50+”. As a nod to our age, they’ve been colored a pretty dove grey to thoughtfully match the color of our hair.


The one my husband is holding, however, seems to have gotten an extra shot of FD&C#2 blue, so what he’s holding looks alarmingly, amazingly, like a certain other type of blue pill, the kind one would take if they were going to…

Have you ever seen a Viagra commercial? Just one of those happy blue pills and suddenly, you see two people flirting and kissing while playing the best damn Scrabble game of their entire freaking lives. Or they’re washing the car together, soaping seductively while shooting each other “we’re-so-gonna-get-it-on” looks as Barry White plays in the background.

What I’m saying is, if your hubby has ever used one of those pills, you know that the, um, result is a real eye opener. Like, “stand back, woman…this thing could be dangerous” kind of eye opener. I mean, you pretty much have to beat that thing into submission once it has had a sip of sapphire magic.  Believe me, I know whereof I speak, and people, we do not waste the enchanted capsules, amiright?

I finish putting my other contact in, which is hard (pun intended) because my whole body is shaking with laughter.

“Are you serious?” I giggle. “Do you really think I’m going to put one of those in your morning pill box as a joke? Pretty expensive joke, considering I could swap one on the black market in exchange for our mortgage payment. Besides, the Packers are playing the Bears this afternoon and you’re not even going to be here, you’ll be at the bar with the boys.”

Suddenly, the thought of him being stuck at a bar under the influence of one of those tablets is hilarious. “How would you even get out of the bar without someone seeing your condition?” I ask him. “Seriously, you could hurt someone. On the upside, that thing would hold the door open for you.”

He’s starting to see my lady logic. “If it was one of those pills, I’d have to come home,” he countered, “during halftime.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

I am unmoved. “Pah! You’d come home to a note and an empty house, Romeo, because I’m going shopping this afternoon. That would put you in a pretty awkward position, wouldn’t it? A party in your pants but no one…” I make air quotes. “…comes?”

“Real funny,” he says. “Although I wouldn’t see the note first.” He leans against the door frame and smiles.

“Oh?” I ask. “And why not?”

“Because if you had slipped me one of those wonder pills”—he points downward—“this thing would beat me home by at least ten minutes.”

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10 thoughts on “The special blue pill”

  1. As a single woman, I found a simpler substitute for that pill: consorting with men half my age. The best part of all, their conversations are so dull, I’m cured of chronic insomnia.

  2. A man with a dangerous “thing” is a man to be prized and cherished above anything else on earth.

    That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

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