My husband says, "I don't think god makes excuses."
The weather is being nasty. Husband looks out the window as the rain is rolling down from the sky and says, "It's snowing."
"No it isn't," I tell him.
We then bicker back and forth about the non-accumulation of anything fluffy and white in the grass.
We're painting our new "office." The final step in our latest home-remodeling project which has given us a much-needed fourth bedroom and an (can I get a heck yeah?) office. I ask husband if he'd like to take the old trim off before I begin painting (it's being replaced) or if I should just cut in as close as possible like I did in the other room?
Instead of telling me what he'd like me to do, he decides it's his job to dress me.
"Well, the first thing I'd do is change your pants."
"Um, that's not what I asked you, dear."
"You don't want to get those pants dirty," he continues.
I take a deep breath, explain that these cruddy old green terry cloth lounge pants are, if anything, suitable for grubby work.
Ever take your husband grocery shopping?
Good times right there. I love walking down the aisles trying to adhere to my list while my husbands makes wise cracks behind me or questions why I am buying those carrots instead of these ones.
Thankfully, I got the shopping done earlier in the week.
"So, what are we doing here? What's the deal?" he says from behind me as I type.
"I thought you were going to the hardware store to get a drop cloth," I answer as I glance out the window and see the large (okay, WHITE) precipitation falling from the sky.
"But it's not snowing," he says sarcastically before he pokes me in the side.
I really don't know how we are going to survive retirement.
Check out that non-snow!