My husband is a butt head. We were talking about our bed and the pop of color and well, he doesn't care. He gets to wallow in our bedroom goodness without a freaking care in the world that I have been looking for a pop of color for five months. Seriously. He loves the pop of color, he just doesn't want to think about WHY he loves the it. He just wants to see the damn forest. While I'm looking at all of the individual trees.
Tonight, after telling him that I was going to have to go to jail for killing my husband, he told me I need to go to the Jackie Lynn (last name) School of Anger Management. By the way, have I mentioned you need to check out Kung Fu Girl? Anyway, Jackie has one little incident at a baseball game and D won't let her live it down. Well, that and that little "pick on the biggest guy in the bar thing" that I wrote about here.
He stands over my shoulder reading "these mysteries, truths, and outright lies" about him. All the while laughing because he belittled my mad decor skillz AND my best friend all in one fell swoop! He wonders why I am outraged! So let me spell it out for you my love...
Let's discuss decor shall we? When I met you, you were living in a 1970s fully "furnished" apartment. I don't even want to think about all of the naked college ass that had sat on that hideous brown plaid couch before you. Not to mention the pullout couch from the dog lady's parents' basement. Oh and the ONE set of non matching sheets you had really impressed the ladies. That, coupled with the towels that had your last name written on them from boot camp... it's a wonder you weren't fighting them off with sticks. You know, the threadbaren white scratchy ones? Better known now as "car washing" towels.
If you continue to not care and therefore insult my skillz, I can make a call and get you back there in a second. In fact, your parents are STILL bitching about you having boxes of shit from your apartment in their garage. You can be all set in minutes. Oh, and I'm totally telling your mom that we had premarital sex right before they arrived to move you out.
Love, The Pop of Color Girl
PS. Jackie, I'm thinking if he came up with the phrase J.L.P.S.O.A.M. I'd be willing to bet that means a crush has been had on you too.