It’s official: the honeymoon is over. My husband and I? We have now crossed over into ‘real’ marriage.
I’m reading your mind: you’re thinking, “Huh?” Well, like a lot of you out there, I have normal marital gripes: toilet paper never being replaced, stinky clothing everywhere but the hamper, sports on TV, etcetera, etcetera. Little did I know that that was the honeymoon phase.
He did it, friends. That man did it to me. The recall is making me cringe.
Last night, Huzz and I were in the kitchen. While I was washing dishes, minding my own business like I always do, he decided to leave. But, before he left, he gave me a parting gift. He turned his body – so we were back to back – and leaned against me… and cut the gouda.
That man farted on me!
Did you even hear what I said?! He F-A-R-T-E-D on me! The last time I was ever farted on was NEVER!
If you are lucky enough to be married to a man with manners, hold on to that Keeper, ladies. Hold on to him, TIGHT. You could be married to someone like my HBL.
… Did I mention FOREVER?