September 4, 2016

[husband ate hell fish last night so he’s lying in bed after multiple toilet trips]

Me: it’s dinnertime, let’s go eat
Him: I’m not feeling well dear
Me: [throws a tantrum and storms off to play solitaire]

-one hour later-

Me: [comes back to the bed and curls up next to him, waking him up]
Him: mmphrf?
Me: [starts tearing up]
Him: why are you crying?
Me: I’m hungry!

– he then resolves to head out to get me food, but I suffer a fit of the conscience and insist that I have stuff in the fridge and can cook, and he can rest at home. After a twenty minute argument which involves locking him out of the balcony in a bid to get my way, he wins –

Me: [bursts into tears]
Him: why are you crying?
Me: because I feel ashamed of my earlier tantrum and now we’re going out even though you’re not feeling well!

-we head out to a new place and I eat the best Margaret de canard of my life-

Honey, if you’re reading this, I love you and you’re the husband I don’t deserve<3 I’ll make it up to you somehow.


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