Is That Even Possible?

I've been holding this story in the hopes that I could share it in its entirety. Due to the twit in question being fired recent staffing changes in my office, I finally can.

A former coworker was an enthusiastic fan of oversharing. The last horrible story we heard before she left was about her twelve-year-old son; he plays football and had a rather interesting injury, which she described as him "pulling the muscle between his balls and his butt". For those of you with a colorful vocabulary like mine, this is commonly known as the taint. The other girls subjected to this story had eyes as wide as mine as she went on to demonstrate the exact movement that caused the injury, followed by the stretches assigned by his physical therapist to remedy the problem.

As soon as I'm able to take my leave of her, I immediately text Hubs and our friend Andrew because I'm dying that this kid sprained his taint.  Andrew texts me back after I offer to show him the stretches just in case he ever needs them.

Guilt-Ridden

I've been out of it all evening. 

Me: I feel dopey.
Hubs: Why?
Me: I don’t know. I just do.
Hubs: Why would you feel guilty?
Me: What? I said I feel dopey.
Hubs: Oh. That makes more sense.
Me: But I am guilty.
Hubs: Of what?
Me: OF BEING AWESOME.

All the (Not Actually) Single Ladies

EB, our preschooler, wants to hold my engagement ring. 

Me: Sorry, sweetie. I don't take these off.
Hubs: Mommy only takes them off when Daddy's out of town.
EB: She takes them off when you're sleeping.
Me: Uh. . .

Cohones

Hubs can't figure out how to set the timer on the toaster oven so I do it for him. 

Hubs: You think you're so smart.
Me: Um, I read the directions.
Hubs: I haven't read directions in. . . twenty years.
Me: I figured you were going to say since your balls dropped.

Working Girl

I'm out with friends when they start telling a story about a guy named John.

Me: Is this John John or the other John?
Friends: It's a third John. You probably haven't met him.
Me: Good lord. I have too many Johns to keep up with.  [Pause]  I should never say that again.

There's an App for That, Too?

Hubs and I are talking technology and his phone keeps dinging with chat messages.

Hubs: If we need to stream something from a website, I could always just attach my laptop to the TV via HDMI.
Phone: Ding!
Me: Or use the ChromeCast.
Hubs: [Hugs me in shocked silence and awe that I came up with a better solution than he did.]
Phone: Ding!
Hubs: That wasn't my phone.

Ba-Dum-Bum!

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