This morning, as I was brushing my teeth, I heard Hubby in the kitchen laughing his ass off. When I went downstairs, I saw him leaning on the kitchen counter reading my blog entry about the Great Reese's Peanut Butter Pie Debacle, otherwise known as the day I wanted to bust my husband's face.
He was practically keeled over the counter, he was laughing so hard. And when I walked into the room, he looked at me and said, "Hahaha...This is so freaking funny. Hahaha."
Yeah. He thinks he's funny. Apparently, he had no idea how close I came to smothering him with a pillow as he slept that night. But, whatever.
So, I rolled my eyes as I walked past him and responded, "Oh, yeah. Hilarious."
A few minutes later, the Hubby, done busting a gut over his ice cream pie-scapade, left for work in his pick-up truck.
About a half hour later, I left for work (a little later than he did because I had a morning appointment that I had to get to). I grabbed all of my paraphernalia (briefcase, laptop, lunch) and headed into the garage. I put all of my stuff in the trunk, plopped myself in the car, and noticed this card that Hubby left for me on the steering wheel:
Now, before you go all "ooohing and ahhhing and isn't that cute?" over it, I have to tell you that the card? Not the best part...
Nope. The best part was the envelope:
Guys? You want to get out of trouble with your wife who has convulsions every time she walks past the freezer because she knows that there is a big, fat chocolate ice cream pie in there THAT YOU BROUGHT INTO THE HOUSE and she just happens to LOVE chocolate almost as much as she loves the air she breathes and she wants to beat your ass because WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING bringing that THING into the home of a woman who is constantly in the pursuit of a smaller ass?
Deep breaths, Sal. Deep breaths.
Shit. I lost my train of thought.
Anyway, here's the moral of the story:
Calling your forty-year-old wife a P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) will definitely stop her from wanting to stab you in the neck with a sharp instrument.
That's about it in a nutshell.