A LIKELY STORY: THE FOREIGN AND CONFUSING LANGUAGE OF LOVE

Does anyone know where I can find a good Webster's Wife-to-English translation book?

Love is a strange and magical place to live. It's comforting and exciting all at the same time, kind of like a church at Christmas time. While it seems a million miles from any place I've ever been, no other place has ever quite felt as much like home to me.

But I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever learn the language.

In Marriage, the working-class suburb of Love, there are still a lot of things I have to learn. But I have figured out one thing involving marital lingo.

Yes doesn't always mean yes. In fact, it could, and often does, mean no.

Yes means yes when you ask if the trash needs taking out or the dishwasher loaded. Yes means yes if you ask if she'd like a cup of coffee or if she'd like to go to a movie.

But there are some cases when yes means no.

Case in point: "OK, let me get this straight," I asked my wife at 1 a.m. Friday. She was mad and I was confused. "When you told me I could have a few drinks with my friends after work, you really meant no."

Before I get to her somewhat confusing answer, some background: I had worked late Thursday night until nearly 10. Knowing Lori goes to bed at 10 like clockwork and feeling somewhat restless, I joined some friends of mine at a local establishment to enjoy a few tasty drinks and some pleasant conversation.

But not before calling my wife at 9:30. I know that is one of the rules. Going to be late? Call the wife. I know that just as well as I know to put the seat down after using the toilet and not pretending not to have noticed when a beautiful woman walks by.

While Love is a nice place to live, it is certainly not without its mindless rituals.

"Sure, honey," she said of my request. "I was just about to go to bed anyway."

"Are you sure?" I asked again, just to be certain and then added: "You wanna come?"

"No, you go ahead, I'll see you when you get in."

Being the fool that I am and not having a translator to tell me that yes, in this situation, meant no, I went. I was gone for three hours, enjoying a couple of beers and talking shop with the other miscellaneous newspaper riffraff.

And when I got home, I expected to find a dark bedroom as I quietly turned the knob. Instead, I found a turned-on television and a wide-eyed wife with murder in her eyes.

I knew what the eyes meant and quickly looked her up and down for any weapon that might do permanent damage to my person. Just a remote control, but I didn't underestimate what it might do if propelled at a high rate of speed in my general direction.

She told me that she was upset with me for going out and she hadn't been able to sleep. That's when I asked her the question about meaning no when she had said yes.

"I said yes but you should have known I didn't mean it," she said.

"When you said yes, you meant no?" I asked again calmly, mindful of the sharp-edged remote control.

"Basically, yes," she said. "You should know better."

"How should I know better?" I asked.

"Well, I just told you," she said, as if it was as obvious as two plus two.

And that, as they say, was that.

It's all kind of blown over since then, but I've learned a valuable lesson. When she says yes to something she will enjoy, it means yes. If it involves me doing something enjoyable, I should listen to her yes and get my behind back home.

But that still leaves the question of what do they mean when they say no.

I really have no idea. I'm afraid to ask.

~Scott Moyers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.