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Silent Bob, my beloved, is a very smart man. There isn’t a sport that you can talk about that he doesn’t know the stats, in detail. His mother tells the story that this was the case when he was only three. He had and does have a photographic memory. If you’ve never known one of those, it’s kind of a scary talent, almost unnatural.

I cottoned on to his intelligence first time I met him because, well, yeah, I think smart is sexy. The other thing about Silent Bob is that he doesn’t really care who knows he’s smart. That and he’s pretty comfortable in his own company.  However, as I would come to find out, this translates into him not being particularly chatty. Oh, he will be sociable, and in fact you’d be charmed by his dry wit at a party, but push come to shove, he’s nicely happy being Silent Bob.

Some would say that he married me because if he is Silent Bob, I am not. I might own up to a bit of that;  it’s my observation that dull moments due to lack of stimulating, if not downright invigorating conversation are hardly a concern when I’m around. But to be honest, there have been a few rocky spots in our romance because of Bob’s lack of conversational desire and although I might could have been a bit less recalcitrant to his way of life earlier, we have largely come to terms. It wasn’t easy. I had to suffer comments like “What do you want me to say, I think you have covered everything.”

As it turns out, one of the things that binds us, despite who is or isn’t talking, is his sense of humor. Early in our marriage he insisted I didn’t have one of these. I was very mad about this for several years and then I guess I really didn’t have one and I finally got one and now when I look back, I think that more than anything Silent Bob’s best conversations have been when we were laughing.

Take the other day. Something has really been bothering Silent Bob. I know this because he has let a very few, sparsely worded, pointed comments slip out.

“I think I have invented something.” Silent Bob says, while I am watching Wimbledon.

“Uh huh.” I say, completely tuned into what he is telling me.

“Pants, with the top half underwear sewn to the jean waist band that starts at butt cheek level.” Silent Bob describes.

“That’s good. You can probably make some money on those.”

Silence.

“So you like the idea, huh?” Silent Bob reiterates.

“Yeah, I love it.”

Silence.

“I am going to Walmart, how do I look?” Silent Bob asks and something about the previous conversation and my lack of attention keys me in on I might ought to be playing better attention.

“I think you might get arrested for indecent exposure.” I say while laughing so hard I am afraid I might pee my pants. Bob knows this. It contributes greatly to his happy smile.

Saggin – unexplainable, Developing a sense of humor –  worth it, Silent Bob Saggin it – priceless.

Silent Bob may not talk a lot but the man does know how to get his point across.