Ba-Dum-Bum!

Me: Did you know that the aquarium was invented by a woman?
Hubs: That explains why they require so much maintenance.

As the Fire Starts to Mellow

Me: Why is this car so hot?
Hubs: That's just you. You're hot.
Me: Hmph.
Hubs: Actually, it's the heat from my heart. It's burning with love for you.
Me: Hmph.
Hubs: Isn't your heart on fire for me?
Me: Those flames burned out a long time ago. But I guess there's still some heat in the coals.
Hubs: Glowing embers?
Me: Yes. There's enough warmth to slowly bake a potato.
Hubs: I like baked potatoes.

Scotchy Scotch Scotch

I'm texting a close friend from undergrad and grad school.  We may have had some pretty crazy younger days, though I refuse to confirm or deny this.  I'm blue, she's yellow.

Stage Fright

Hubs works for a multinational technology company.  They have an annual conference for his division, and he's been roped into presenting at the next one.

Hubs:  I'm okay talking to groups of twenty or thirty people, but when you start talking about a hundred or more, that's different.  I just pretend there's no one in the room and I'm talking to myself and it tends to go okay.
Me:  I suppose, given your audience, that that's a better strategy than picturing everyone naked.  You're lecturing to the indoor kids.
Hubs:  I don't know.  All those fat balding men are right up my alley.
Me:  Have any of them actually been up your alley?
Hubs:  Not yet.  But I have my fingers crossed!

Sweet Dreams

Our friend Andrew attended a funeral recently, so I texted him the morning after to ask if he was okay and if he needed anything.  He said he was fine, but followed with this.

Rage Against the Dying of the Light

We're discussing getting rid of our cats. I love them, but my kids are allergic and they've become a huge pain in the ass.  However, I hate the thought of them living in cages at a shelter.

Me:  I'm just wondering if we should set them free.  See how long it takes them to get hit by a car.  Or gas them in the garage.
Hubs: Are you serious?
Me:  Not really.  I'm just afraid they won't go to a good home.
Hubs:  So you're thinking of putting them out of their hypothetical future misery.  This doesn't bode well for me as I age.
Me: Nope. But would you rather rot in a nursing home or die peacefully in your sleep?
Hubs: I'm not going to answer that question.
Me: Wise.

We're All Mad Here

Hubs and I are both OCD but in very different ways. One of his compulsions is the need to check all of our locks three times before he comes to bed.

Hubs: It'll be nice when I get all this home automation set up and I can just push a button to lock the doors.
Me: I don’t think I'd trust that. I'd still want you checking them every night.
Hubs: Aww! So you appreciate my OCD!
Me: Yes. I've come to rely on it. So now my compulsion is to have you check the locks. You've turned your OCD into my OCD.
Hubs: As it should be.
Me: Dear god, we're just a short step away from being Randy Quaid and his wife.