The Red Fuzzy Blanket

    As seen in many homes around America, we have this red, fuzzy blanket in our house that lies over the back of our recliner. Typical, no? In my mind, this blanket is strategically placed so that the occupant of the recliner will have something cozy to throw over themselves when the winter chill hits. HOWEVER.... this red, fuzzy blanket is never to be found. Why, you may ask? Because my husband has decided that this throw would be better used as a cape. (I am so not kidding.)
    I couldn't say why, but my guy has been totally rebelling against clothing lately (keep this in mind, those of you who feel that a friendly visit without a warning phone call is "spontaneous!"). First thing in the morning, he walks in his skivvies to find his cape (he actually calls it this), ties it around his neck, and then walks around the house doing his morning routine. Now, not only does this bring up the whole chest-hair-on-the-blanket-used-by-others situation, but come on.... I work with mentally challenged people all day. Can't a girl catch just a little normalcy in her day?
    I was starting to get used to the cape thing because acceptance was easier than fighting this one. But what I REFUSE to get used to is "the skirt" that has emerged since yesterday. I came home and my husband came walking out of the guest bedroom wearing a t-shirt and the red, fuzzy blanket (formally known as "Cape") tied around his waist, resembling a floor-length skirt (slit up the front....and I gotta be honest, it wasn't super clear if anything else was between that red, fuzzy blanket and a whole other kind of hair I don't want on that throw!). I opted for silence at first. But then I asked him if he would be able to help me carry something up from downstairs.

    "Ugghh! But I'll trip on my skirt!"

    OH MY GOSH, ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?! Grow a pair, hike it up, and carry up that box or I'm going to do something to you that's going to make that skirt a necessary part of your daily wardrobe! Realizing how utterly ridiculous he sounded, he dutifully went to the basement to carry up the box. Things I Never Thought I'd Hear My Husband Say, Volume 1, coming to stores soon.

Synthesizer Hell

     I've become more than a little bothered by my husband's unnatural love for all things synthesizer. I thought it was bad enough when I first heard him sing and found out that he's tone deaf (really and truly....I attempted to help him with this one night while he was singing along to the Big Bang theme song (well, sort of singing). I noticed that he continually sang off-key, but that he always sang in the same wrong key, leading me to believe that he could be helped. So, he perched next to my piano- eyes bright, ready to learn- as I played two C notes. "Do you hear how these are the same?" I asked. "Yep," he responded. I then played a C and a D together to provide the same distorted sound that he creates when he sings along to a song. "Now, can you hear that these are NOT the same?" I asked. "Nope." -- Hopeless)!
     My long-lost dream of having a Von Trapp-esque family to tour Germany with has finally been laid to rest, but what I CANNOT deal with is listening to synthesizer-based 70's-90's music until death do we part. It's simply not fair and I refuse to do it. Apparently my husband's taste buds, fashion sense, and musical preferences are all very one-note.... afterall, why would we want to eat adventurous foods, wear color, or listen to music that requires a modicum of talent? I get that those good ole songs bring back memories (how fond could memories from the 70s really be, though, honestly?), but I cannot be expected to suffer through another evening of radio wars like we had tonight! The man-child that I call my husband is incapable of leaving a radio station in one place for an entire song.... he listens to about 45 seconds of his "favorite song!" and then switches through the channels until he finds his other "favorite song!", passing each and every station that is playing a song from this decade, landing on a remote radio wave from days gone by that would make the average person cringe, stating, "Yeeaaahhh, that's the stuff...." (And then he tone-deafly sings along-- loudly. Because of course he can remember the words to every single synthesizer song, but he can't be bothered to remember to get his wife a Valentine's Day card.)
    

Flirt Till Five

     In a marriage, I have found that it's extremely important to keep things fun and exciting. A great way to do this is by flirting. I know, I know....flirt with your spouse? Some may be thinking, "What's the point of that? It's not like you have to earn that goodnight kiss!" Say what you like, but flirting is...well... fun! The invention of text messaging, for many, has radically changed the way we flirt with one another. For instance, there's the kissy-face icon that you can add to the bottom of your messages. (Or you can be totally old-school and use the semi-colon wink....it creates an entirely new meaning to "Hey, honey, what do you want for dinner? ;)"....)
Another way to spice up your flirting by text is to send random messages throughout the day telling your lover-boy/girl how much you can't wait to see them, hug them, kiss them.... and so on (if you require further instructions, you're on your own.).
     So, the last couple of weeks, my husband and I have been flirt-texting like rapid fire. We start in the morning and message each other all day. In fact, we could write the BOOK on flirting! We tickle each others' fancies all day, then come home, plan a nice meal for the evening, and then..... Nothing. NOTHING!! Apparently flirting all day takes the energy right out of ya, because as soon as dinner is done, all either of us can think about is sitting down to watch T.V. or going to bed. "We'll try again tomorrow," we tell each other, but deep in our hearts, we know tomorrow's schedule....and we know that we'll be even more tired then than we are now. But we flirt all day, nevertheless. And again, dinner time comes around and we simply poop out.
     He'll say, "Do you wanna?" And I'll reply with something like, "Um, sure! I mean, only if you want to...." And then he'll sigh and murmur, "Well, it's really up to you.... that was a big meal, afterall." And then I'll put us both out of our misery and say, "Tomorrow then?" And he'll respond with a grateful, "Excellent idea!"
     We call ourselves the Flirt Till Five couple. But it's really not THAT bad....I mean, most couples don't spend nearly this much time with foreplay and lovey-dovey goodness! But, then there's the whole pregnancy goal for this year...... I wonder if my boss will understand if I have to start leaving work at 3.....

Clorox Wipes

     It's flu season.+ My clients tend to have poor hygiene. + I use my own car to transport clients from point A to point B. = Therefore, I decided that purchasing Clorox wipes to keep in my vehicle was not only wise, but it is necessary (afterall, I had a hyper-manic female wipe her MRSA infection all over my pen AND sunglasses before saying "Ooops....maybe I should keep these?" Um, NO....but thank you very much for making my skin crawl.).

Earlier this week:
     (Pat) Did you use your Clorox wipes yet?
     (Me) Nope, not yet. I've had an agency vehicle so far this week.
     (Pat) Rats.
     (Me....suspciously) What did you do to my wipes?
     (Pat) Nothing! Geez!

A few days later, in the car:
     (Pat) Did you use your Clorox wipes yet?
     (Me) Ok, seriously, what the heck is it with you and those wipes?
     (Pat) I'm just asking if you've used them yet!
     (Me) Yeah, 'cause it's just like you to ask multiple times if I've used WIPES lately? I know you're not THAT concerned with my car's cleanliness....
     (Pat) Oh my gosh, I was just asking!!!
    
     Huffily, I reached into the back and grabbed the wipes container, eyeing it with caution. Did he use one and then not close the lid, causing all of my wipes to dry out? Or maybe he put something gross or creepy (or both) inside to play a practical joke....
     I held the wipes away from me and slowly opened the lid. Inside was a piece of paper cut into a circle to perfectly fit the inner rim of the container. On the piece of paper, written in my husband's handwriting, were the words "I Love You".
   
     (Me) Awww! I love you, too!
     (Pat) Yeah, that's right.

And then I got the flu.