I am thankful for my sweet W.
Because today, when I woke up all chipper and cheery--despite sleeping with a toddler wedged in my baby-hole--I was assaulted by nonsense and got REALLY cranky.
Because--silly me--I thought that since the elections are over we could all SHUT UP. But I received three zillion forwards telling me "Let's go 2010/2012!!!" and "Democrats hate goodness" and "Suck it Republicans!" and "Stressed is Dessert spelled backwards!" and I got crabby. Because I really, truly, had no cares about who won this election, except I wanted Their Dad to still have a job, and to be able to keep saying "Saxby Chambliss." But, NO! The Internets still want to talk about it. BAAAH!
Because I went to work out and they were watching Yoga in Spanish while listening to "Living in America" and I could not concentrate on my cloits and dloits because I kept hearing the man say "Spanish Spanish Spanish Coccyx Spanish Spanish Spanish Sacrum."
Because I came home and the JW's stopped by and--instead of trying to save me--started pestering me for the toddler bed in my garage. "But you no have a baby! I need it now!" "But I am adopting" "But you no have a baby NOW. I need it NOW." Thanks, JW lady, for reminding me that keeping baby clothes is a futile waste of space because I am broken. I hope that Prince gets to heaven instead of you. Also--thanks for not caring about my eternal SOUL.
Because it is 80 degrees again and WHERE IN THE HELL IS MY WINTER?
But then I can talk to my sweet W, and we can have the following conversation:
"I want to punch you in the baby maker."
"You are a dirty Pirate Hooker. Why don't you go back to Whore Island?"
And--the beauty of my marriage--I can know that he loves me and we will laugh and talk about nothing and he won't tell me I am wrong and misinformed and useless as a woman and Obama! and McCain! and Prop 8! and Jesse Jackson! and Canada! and Bring Our Troops Home Momentarily Before We Send Them to Fight in Afghanistan! He just tells me that Dorothy Mantooth is a Saint and that he loves me and I should go buy a pencil skirt.
I am so thankful for him. So thankful that in less than 200 days I am going to take him out to a nice seafood dinner, and then I WILL call him again.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
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9 comments:
Yeah, I don't think the chatter will stop for another 4years.
Will you post a picture of you and the pencil skirt for us? ;-)
Trying to decide whether this post makes me laugh or cry. I think that's a sign of a good post.
Agreed: pencil skirt+La Yen=pictures. Please. Also more pictures of vanquishing, please.
I am thankful for him, too. I'm thankful that he was a naughty boy and his parents sent him to EFY. Who could have known what that would set into action?
my verification is pulpheel.
Is it pronounced "pulp heel" or "pul-feel"?
I think it was a beautiful love letter.
Oh, laugh. I hate making people cry.
And I think it is pronounced like "Popeil" as in "Mr. Popeil."
And I didn't get to finding a pencil skirt today. Because I had to get the oil changed. But I am ON IT tomorrow.
PS. ~J, thanks for being the only girl at EFY that refused to make out with him.
i hope that after you enjoy that seafood dinner you go home and get crazy on a rainbow
because that's where it's at
or so i'm told
wink wink nudge nudge
All this love! I just have one thing to say.
Scotch scotch scotch. I love scotch.
No, really. I love my wife because she knows what I mean when I tell her she's a pirate hooker.
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