My Wife Is An Alien Spy

Mark’s No-Nonsense Productivity Boot Camp • In The Woods

One Minute Wit

Mark’s No-Nonsense Productivity Boot Camp

You will become more productive, or you will drop and give me fifty push-ups.

Rene Asmussen

Mark: Listen up, boots. Here’s the hard truth of it. You won’t get anywhere sitting on your butts all day.

Boot 1: What if you’re a bus driver?

Boot 2: Or a truck driver?

Boot 3: Or on a sled on a snowy hill in the wintertime?

Boot 4: Or on a go-cart?

Boot 5: Or a bike?

Boot 6: Or driving a speedboat?

Boot 7: Or riding a horse. Or a camel?

Mark: Quiet! You’re here to learn, not ask questions. Everyone drop and give me fifty.

50-Word Story

In The Woods

Casey Horner

“It is pretty,” Jenny said as they arrived at the campsite.

“Told ya.”

“Whoa. Justin, that tree just moved toward us.”

“You’re silly. It must be your imagination.”

They pitched the tent.

As they slept, a dozen trees circled the tent and crept closer.

By morning, the tent had vanished.

Aliens Are Real!

My Wife Is An Alien Spy

She doesn’t know that I know

Mikhail Nilov

It is quite the gut punch when you discover that your wife is actually not human. And perhaps even worse, she is a spy for a civilization existing on another world. Naturally, I have kept my revelation to myself. I have no desire to have my face melted or some other inconvenient act of violence perpetrated on me.

Looking back, there were clues. Red flags I chose to ignore.

First of all, she was beautiful and interested in me. It wasn’t like tall, smoking-hot brunettes were chasing after me on a regular basis. Or blondes, or redheads, or even Deadheads. And that look of desperation, boredom, or resignation that I usually noticed on the faces of young women I dated wasn’t there.

And those long legs…

Sorry, I was just having a brief flashback.

Her family should have been another clue. I recall the first time I met them. My future wife invited me over to her house for dinner. Her family all seemed like they actually liked each other and enjoyed spending time together. That’s not normal human behavior, is it? And even weirder, they all liked me. Even her father seemed to like me — no death threats or scary stares. It made me nervous.

Then there was dinner. My future wife’s mother made lasagna. No, I mean she made lasagna — from scratch. Who does that? The only lasagna I got at home was Stouffer’s lasagna from a box on special occasions.

I should have realized then that my wife’s alien race had probably researched humans in the 1950s. Perhaps watching Leave It To Beaver, Ozzie & Harriet, Father Knows Best, or some other impossibly perfect family on television.

My wife’s mother even made clothes for my wife and her sister! Maybe they watched Little House On The Prairie, too. But instead of questioning whether I was actually in an episode of the Twilight Zone, I was attracted to their apparent love and kindness toward each other. Fool!

Their web of deception was powerful, and I quickly fell into their trap. I began to think that a girl raised in such a family would certainly be a good wife. That’s how aliens do it. They get inside your head and get you to trust them. To enjoy their company. To even love them. Don’t be fooled! They are aliens! They have an alien agenda. And if you have ever watched movies, you know the most popular alien agenda is conquering the Earth, which makes me wonder why we care so little for our own planet.

I couldn’t see it at the time, but they were obviously spies sent to Earth to learn our weaknesses and plan their eventual invasion.

But I was young and naive. Blinded by the dream of sharing my life with this creature who was “Way too good for you” and “Out of your league,” according to my “friends.” So I asked her to marry me. And she agreed.

I soon discovered my wife’s inhuman (obviously alien) ability to sleep through anything. Once she goes to sleep, there is no waking her up. Alarm clocks, hurricanes, earthquakes, screaming military jets buzzing the house during “training” (more likely, alien-hunting), accidental fireworks explosions in the living room — it doesn’t matter. She sleeps through anything and can’t be woken.

I briefly considered the possibility that she was a robot, and when she slept, she was actually in shut-down mode. But I didn’t dare cut her open to see if she had gears and wires inside her. She would probably notice. And what if she had laser eyes? That would probably hurt.

Then I thought, perhaps she was an android. But she doesn’t ring when someone calls, so I figured she must be an alien.

I married an alien!

As soon as we were married, she started fattening me up by cooking huge home-cooked meals. It worked. I gained a quick twenty pounds.

I now believe she intended to slaughter me once I was plump enough. But she apparently changed her mind. Maybe her species decided humans were not very tasty. Or perhaps it was a plan to reduce my attractiveness to other women (not that it was much of an issue) and cement the ties of matrimony even further. Or they decided to save humans for slave labor to build their new alien empire here on Earth after the invasion.

Regardless of the reason, I had to increase the waist size on my jeans purchases.

My suspicions that my wife was an alien started to waver a bit when she got pregnant. Surely, different species couldn’t produce offspring. But then the first child arrived after a labor of only an hour and a half. That is too fast for humans, isn’t it? And I am pretty sure some alien words slipped out on the car ride to the hospital.

Our first hybrid child was mostly happy and slept through the night very quickly. Not what I was expecting. There was obviously some alien DNA in there.

The second child was born even faster. The doctors told us we better schedule the birth of our third child unless I wanted to deliver it. They said, “Tuesdays are slow. Come in next week.” That sounded odd, but they were right. Maybe they were aliens, also. Who knows how far this alien spy network reaches?

After having children, I discovered that my alien wife was far too accomplished as a young parent to be human. She seemed to have a natural ability to handle any situation and form close bonds with the hybrids. More of that alien subterfuge, no doubt. Or perhaps she is grooming them to join the alien side.

The hybrids, incidentally, were far too cute and clever to be fully human children. Although, their human side did make a brief appearance in their teenage years.

I also encountered superhuman stubbornness, not just from my wife but her entire family. You could show them proof that they were wrong, and they would still cling to their opinions. It had to be an act. Even I wasn’t that stubborn. She has toned down the stubbornness over the years — another shrewd bit of alien assimilation of human nature.

Of course, the real giveaway is she still pretends to love me even after all of my stupid ideas, knuckle-headed actions, and general loser-ness. Despite my aging looks and physique. Despite my general grumpiness and cynicism. It can only be explained as a long-term mission to infiltrate an average Human life and integrate themselves into the Human population before the inevitable invasion.

I have been waiting over four decades for the invasion to happen. The aliens must be very patient. But I am not fooled. Nor complacent. I have been watching every sci-fi movie I can find to learn what to expect. And to prepare. Although I have to admit, a few Baby Ruth candy bars in my glove box isn’t much in the way of preparation. But watching all those movies takes time. Give me a break.

Actually, I have kind of reached the point where I really don’t care anymore if my wife is an alien. I imagine both of the Darrin Stephens felt the same way when they learned their wife was a witch. And then all her crazy relatives showed up. Only I am the one with the crazy relatives. But not witches. I think. I did have an eccentric Uncle Leonard, who was a magician. So, who knows?

Although I sometimes feel sorry for future humans when the invasion happens. Or maybe, just maybe, the aliens will grow fond of humans, despite all our flaws, and decide to keep pretending they are humans indefinitely. Perhaps they can increase the overall intelligence and caring in the human population. That would be a win-win for us.

You may be wondering if I am worried that my wife will read this and the jig will be up. Nah. She has no interest in my writing. Aliens.

Happy Monday. Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.

Mark

---

Monday Morning Mark • 176