I’m talking about the/my Husband, a.k.a. – The Huz.
We have a pretty special relationship.
For example, if he asks, “Does this shirt make me look fat?” And I answer, “No, your fat neck makes you look fat…” We laaaaaaugh… He may or may not measure his neck. I have no idea. But I know we laugh.
We have come to expect such encouragement things from one another.
Like this recent convo:
Me: I think the barista made me a sugar-free white chocolate mocha instead of the real-thing. Ugh. Ick. Yuck. Gross. What a waste!
The Huz: Maybe she thought you needed it…
Stinker.
Recently, as we were fixin’ drift off into dreamland…
Huz: You’re hot.
Me: Shut up.
Huz: No seriously. If your picture were on that one website, Hot or Not, I would totally choose HOT.
Me: Awesome?
And recently, while I sat and took notes on my computer about ANOTHER something he said… he said, “My whole life is a reality show for you… You can take THAT to the Twitters.”
See? He knows me. And he still stays.
Desperate times, desperate measures??? Maybe… maybe not…
Uh-oh… here comes the smolder…
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