Monday, October 12, 2009

let me just say that I love being married to my husband...

Tonight my friend and I had an instant messenger conversation about the new living situation with her boyfriend. The situation is they live together now. The conversation started when I told her I made the world's best chocolate chip cookies and she and said boyfriend should come for dinner soon and sample some for dessert. (I have stooped to bribing my friends with food because I live far away in a town without high-rises or night-clubs. How dare I.)

me: you should bring boyfriend over for dinner and we'll have cookies for dessert
her: he'll eat all the cookies
her: he buys me cookies
her: and then eats them
her: and then buys me more to replace the ones he eats
her: and eats them
her: it's like we're married

This is when I laughed out loud. Because my friend is so stupid and naive in her presumptions about being married that it thrills me to the point of peeing pants. Sorry MyDearFriend, but you have things all mixed up.

Where cookies are concerned, there are no courtesies in the married household. Nobody buys replacement cookies. Nobody bakes replacement cookies. There is only eating of the replaced cookies that are replaced by the cookie purchaser/creator in order for more cookies to appear. Like a game. How many cookies will Mommy make?
It's like the little red hen. But with cookies.

My unmarried friends are always saying "it's like we're married" and I really think they should walk a mile in a married woman's shoes before they assume anything such. If you're not married and you kind of get the feeling like you are, I can put your single ego at ease. You're only truly married when he starts flicking boogers or scratching his balls while you're sitting next to him watching television. Or if he leaves skid marks in the toilet or "crunchy" boxers under the bed. If he's eating all the cookies and then buying you more cookies consider yourself lucky, not married.

4 comments:

Megameghan said...

To be honest, I only typed that as a trick so I could get you to blog about me and my cute little boyfriend cookie story. And look! You did. I know you so well. It's like we're married...

Miss Yvonne said...

I knew I was good and married when my husband picked his nose in front of me and then all he said was "What??" when I gave him a disgusted look.

Ann Imig said...

Truer words were never spoken.

Paulita said...

tee hee