(My boyfriend and I are sharing a few kisses. When we stop, I look at him seriously.)
Me: “Baby, what did you have for lunch?”
Boyfriend: “PB&J.”
Me: “When did you have eggs?”
Boyfriend: *cracks up laughing* “That was breakfast.”
Me: “I can taste it. It’s slightly disgusting, but I’ll kiss you anyways.”
Boyfriend: *acting offended* “Slightly disgusting, am I?”
Me: “Only a little bit.”
Me: “What about me first attracted you?”
Husband: “Your looks are what hooked me in.”
Me: “Aw!”
Husband: *interrupting* “And your personality is what made me realize how important looks are.”
(I’m ill, and have been in the bathroom all night puking. My husband doesn’t handle vomiting well, but is trying to be supportive. He is hanging outside the bathroom. He gets thirsty, and finds an iced tea I picked up on the way home for him.)
Husband: “Where’d this ice tea come from?”
Me: “I brought it from—” *BLARGH*
Husband: “Can I have it?”
Me: “I got it for—” *BLARGH*
Husband: “Puke once for yes, and twice for no.”
(I puke four times in succession.)
Husband: “Wait, you don’t even like iced tea. You got this for me? ”
Me: *BLARGH*
Husband: “I love you, too!”
Me: “I will support you no matter what you do.”
Boyfriend: “Even if I am a mad scientist?”
Me: “Yes, even then.”
Boyfriend: “Even if I’m a crazy person trying to destroy California?”
Me: *serious look* “Yes. Even then.”
(Later that day…)
Boyfriend: “I don’t know why I picked California…”
(I send my 2 youngest children to the local shop for some basic groceries. The shop is only at the end of the street, but they have never been there on their own before, so are both excited about their first ‘trip’ unsupervised.)
Me: “Alright, do you have the shopping list?”
Son: “Yes, mum!”
Me: “And you’re sure you don’t need me to come with you?”
Daughter: “No, mum! We can do it!”
(I hand them a £20 note.)
Me: “Alright then. And because I am in a good mood today, if you get any loose change from the shopping, feel free to buy yourselves some sweets.”
Son and Daughter: *in unison* “Wow! Thanks, mum!”
(They both hurry out, and come back about twenty minutes later, far longer than it should have taken. My daughter comes in first.)
Me: “Finally you’re back! The shop is barely fifty feet away. What took you so long?”
Daughter: “We had to make sure to pick the best sweets!”
(I then notice she has about seven chocolate bars crammed into her pocket.)
Me: “How much loose change did you get from the twenty?”
Daughter: “About eighteen!”
Me: “So where is the rest of it?”
(I then spy my son bursting through the door, beaming a proud smile, as he drags a heavy bag full to the brim with chocolate bars through the door.)
Daughter: “What rest of it?”
