Being married is often like exercise. It can be invigorating, life affirming and so worth it, but sometimes it’s just a sweaty, I have to shower again, and my body feels like it’s dying, pain in the ass.
Michael’s a great guy and I’m glad I’m married to him, but there are times I think about poisoning his food. He cooks everything, so that would be kind of tricky, but the desire is there.
I wrote Wet Suit on his birthday and the gist of the post was reflecting on the way he sees things and his unique perspective. As with all posts, I sort of ramble, cut out the things that bore me and then I’m done.
I liked Wet Suit. It touched a little on our trip and Michael. There were some “lovey” feelings in there too.
Michael reads the post and says, “It was good. I liked the picture, but…um, well the quote that you used…that’s not really what I was getting at. The point was that buying food can become a one way street and when we don’t see it all the time we forget. It really wasn’t that big of a deal and you made me sound like I’m reflecting on animals dying and that’s not what I said.”
My thoughts, “Oh, shut up. I was wishing you a happy birthday and no one cares if I got the quote right.” I think I may have said that out loud to him. Maybe I yelled.
Perhaps Mr. Always Having a Comment and Being Way Too Honest, if you want people to know your exact quote you should start your own blog. So there.
I feel better now and we are having chicken florentine tonight, so he’s already forgiven.
My thoughts from the laundry room. I Have No Idea Who Turned the Air up to 77.