Overheards
Scene: Our kitchen last night. H & I are cleaning up from dinner.
Me: Ugh... I don't know what is wrong with me. It's maddening. I hit this wall at this time every night (6:14-19 p.m. I swear it is that accurate) and I just feel so awful no matter what I do.
H: mumbling under his breath as he puts something away in the fridge. Snorts with laughter to himself.
Me: What? What was that you just said?! I didn't hear you....
H: Nothing! I didn't say anything. (smirks)
Me: No, you did! I heard something. What was it you said?! Tell me or I swear that dirty steak knife sitting in the sink will be used.
H: OK...(sighing) I just said, "It's when you take your bitch pill..."
Me: WHAT?! That is not funny!!! (giving him an Elaine Bennis shove)
H: I know. It's like one of those things that seems funny in your head and then once you say it, not so much.
Me: Um... that is never funny in your head.
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MPR has some great reviews up. One PBN sponsored girly review and another French Country inspired one from Le Couvent Des Minimes.
Brave man. At least he recognized that he was treading on thin ice.
ReplyDeleteLow blow! I know a few men who need a double dose of bitch pills, (hug)
ReplyDeleteto be fair to H, he was only kidding. It was just a really bad joke. I got to sit on the couch and watch Desperate Housewives and more afterwards while he bathed and put T.D. to bed. And that is just because that is how he normally is.
ReplyDeleteI did warn him this would make the blog today though...