Thursday, October 8, 2009

Love is a Battlefield

....And marriage is the hostage negotiation meeting.

Hubby informed me the other evening that he plans to stop farting so much. He said he just doesn't want me to think he's a caveman anymore. Which is nice.

This morning I came to him with a counteroffer. He can keep the farting, if we (and by "we," I'm referring to him) can be more careful about the use of cuss words in front of the Mini. I had a dream last night that Mini and I were on a walk in our neighborhood and he kept saying, "That bitch! That bitch! That bitch!"

I don't want that to happen in real life, except with the F-bomb somehow in play.