Lois Lane Comes Forward In Husband's Disappearence

With Clark Kent gone for over two week (and people yawning), it's finally time for Kent's wife, the beautiful Lois Lane (aka Ashley), to come forward. In a statement released early this morning, Lane broke her weeks long silence to tell her side of the story. 

What I Know 
by L. Lane

I knew something was wrong as soon as I opened the door. It was too quiet. The girls were at their dad's house, so I wasn't expecting the typical chorus of welcome home belches that usually greets me upon my return. But even in their absence I expected to hear the familiar sounds of my husband. He can most often be either found at his desk, or holed up in a more cozy area with his laptop – keyboard clattering and iPod blaring. That's how I know he's really in his writing groove: his horrible tuneless humming.

But today there was no humming. I'll admit that at first I was a bit grateful. My husband has impeccable taste in many things – wine, clothing, second wives – but his taste in music leaves much to be desired. I might be able to excuse the tuneless humming if he was mutilating a song by Interpol or Regina Spektor. But Nickelback and Matchbox 20 songs are mangled enough without Ron's melodic interpretations. Usually the only way I can tell what song he's torturing me with is that his iPod volume is loud enough to carry the music across the room. His accompaniment bears no resemblance to the original in either tone or rhythm. He just hunkers down with his writing, taps a random beat with his foot, and belts out whatever pops into his head.

Occasionally I will be treated to an actual lyric, but only if he thinks he is alone. Those are the best moments as the crescendo slowly builds from a "hmm hmmm hmmm" to an open mouthed hum of "ahhh ahhh ahhh" culminating and a bawdily crooned "MAKE MY WAY BACK HOME AND LEARN TO FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" On those extra special days, I like to sneak up and start singing along with him while performing intricate dance/leg-hump choreography, but he never seems to be quite as amused as I am. He's also not very receptive to my relentless mocking of his choices in music. But honestly, even Allie raised an eyebrow that day he had the new Pink song on repeat for four hours. I would be remiss in my wifely duties if I didn't taunt him with the dance and lyrics every time I walked past his desk.

So the silence that greeted me that day was enjoyable for at least several minutes. I could read in silence, knit in solitude, catch up on season 3 of Lost without the unsolicited soundtrack. But then I started to get lonely. No one was there to channel the Chili Peppers and proclaim music was indeed his aeroplane. I missed the bizarre musical rambling that turned out to be Christina Aguilera's "Candyman" being relentlessly jammed down my ears. And on further inspection, he hadn't even taken his iPod along on his journey. It must be serious if he left without his tunes.

Alas, thank you brave souls for keeping hope alive and concentrating on the search for my beloved. If you find him, don't mention that I've taken over his iPod. Maybe he won't notice that I switched out Linkin Park with Shudder to Think. And Tori Amos now replaces all his Pussycat Doll singles. Let's keep that just between us, 'kay?

And there you have it folks. Lois Lane totally admits to undermining her own husband's musical sensibilities. Could this be why he left? To follow one his favorite bands on tour without his wife poking fun? (where's Coldplay performing this evening anyway?) Well, that's probably not the case given Clark current assignment. What Lois forgot to mention is her discovery of the Final Clue - a blue glowing light coming from under the door to the master bedroom closet. "Clark, honey, is that you?"

Put all the clues together tomorrow and collect the REWARD! (comments will open at 9 AM CST to be fair to the west coasters)

The Lunchbox was very honored to have Tara from Sticky Fingers yesterday and her down and dirty advice on the truth about being a mum. Thanks Tara and to your readers for stopping by. 

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