You’re So Hot

(My husband is getting ready to go to work, which he really doesn’t want to do.)

Me: “You have to start the car to let it heat up; it’s cold outside”

(He gets an evil grin on his face, walks up to me, and grabs my boob, turning his hand a little.)

Me: “What do you think you are doing?”

Husband: “Starting the car, but it’s not working. OH!” *while still holding my boob, he moves behind me and stands so his front is touching my backside* “Maybe I have to put the key in.”

Me: “Out! Go start the car!”

(He opens up his mouth to say something, but before he does I specify:)

Me: “The Malibu!”

Husband: “But you are my Malibu Barbie.”

(Laughing, he runs out of the house to start the car. A couple of minutes later, he is back inside and asks where his mitts are; I borrowed them to shovel some snow.)

Me: *handing them to him* “Sorry, they are still wet. At work, you should put them by a heater or something so they dry properly.”

(Again, he gets that evil smile and walks up to me, placing a mitt on each shoulder. I just look at him.)

Husband: “They will be dry in no time now.”

Me: *oblivious* “What do you mean?”

Husband: “You said to put them by something hot!”

(He is the weirdest romantic you will ever meet, but he’s mine.)