Mrs. Potato Head

| Friendly | April 13, 2015

(My husband and I are out with a friend. We’re lingering over the remnants of our meals and discussing cartoons, when my husband stands up to use the restroom.)

Friend: “And we never saw [Husband] again.”

Me: “What!? Nooo! He’s my husband!”

Friend: “Not anymore. Those potatoes are your husband now.”

(He gestures at my plate, which I then slowly pull closer to myself.)

Me: “Well, I’m Irish. They’ll be a good husband.”

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