Jibberish

Blogging is taxing. It's hard to come up with something to write about everyday. Not all days are filled with exciting and hilarious antics around here, even though it may seem that way at times.

Since nothing extraordinary happened today besides me managing to cut the same finger twice during a single haircut, I'm gonna dig through the my archive and tell you about a day from a couple weeks back. (All while pretending my husband isn't really watching womens basketball on tv. With the invention of super supportive sportsbra's I can't for the life of me imagine why anyone would want to watch a womens basketball game. Weird braided pigtails on man shoulders...*shudder*)

Anywho, as I was saying...

Nevermind what I was saying! Chad, (My husband/cook/ laundry guru/baby daddy/gentle lover), just walked by and read what I was typing. He immediately defended womens sporting events. Apparently they are all the rage. Men have found respect for these exhibitions and are openly watching them with friends. News to me.

Shortly after 'setting me straight' he begged me not to speak of him in this blog. All he accomplished with that request was to ascertain his inclusion in my blog ASAP. Please allow me to tell you about my husband.

He is 6'3"-ish, 170lbs. In laymans terms, he is a telephone pole, in womens terms, he's an ass bc he eats non stop, never gains a pound and always makes my 5'4" look 'thick' standing next to him. Once, (emphasis on ONCE), he thought it would be funny to try on a pair of my capri pants and surprise me with his hilarious high-water clown pants. The fatal flaw of his plan was that I had just popped out baby #2 a couple of weeks prior and was eagerly awaiting the day when I could squeeze back into my brand new Gap capris. He fit nicely into a size 4 pant that wouldnt even come close to zipping on me. Instead of the raucous laugh he was expecting upon entering the office, he was received with loud sobs and a painful jab to the gut.

Now, it is not my intention to make my husband look clueless or stupid. Normally he is quite intelligent and caring. Generally speaking, he's the responsible one and im the pain in the ass that forgets to give him my debit card receipts so he can balance the checkbook.. Im just saying that when he does slip, he manages to level the playing field in one fell, remarkably idiotic swoop.