This is a conversation that Hubby and I had this morning after he found me doing something shocking on our bedroom floor…

Hubby: What the hell!?

Me: *grunt* What? *groan*

Hubby: What are you doing?!?

Me: *gasp* Isn’t it obvious?

Hubby: Well, kind of, but I never thought I’d ever see you do it.

Me: *squeal* 50, YES! GO ME!! What do you mean? I’ve done sit-ups before!

Hubby: When?

Me:… Presidential Fitness Evaluation my Junior year in High School!

Hubby: Oh, well ya, I stand corrected. But why now?

Me: Well I was telling Tif about our new apartment and how amazing it is and how it’s probably the nicest place we’ve ever lived and I began to realize something… we’re totally not good enough for this apartment!

Hubby: Speak for yourself.

Me: No seriously! This apartment is for beautiful, fit, people. People who have dinner parties and hobbies and have towels that match.  We need to up our game!

Hubby: My game is up, I look good. And we had a dinner party last week, plus I have a hobby and our towels match.

Me: Okay first off, tubby tummy says what? Second, having the guys over to hang and eat pizza on the couch is not a dinner party.  Also playing X-Box is not a hobby, nice try, and no our towels do not match.

Hubby: … Do you really want to start pointing out tummy problems?

Me: … Let’s forget the tummy issues. But seriously, our towels don’t match.

Hubby: They’re all brown.

Me: But not all the same shade of brown… in fact I don’t think some of them started out brown! Oh My God, we’re so not good enough for this apartment!

Hubby: Wow, okay I’m going to work. Hey crazy lady, tell my wife to call me when she gets back.

Me: Sarcastic smart asses are not good enough for our new apartment either!

Hubby: In that case… you’re screwed.

Me: … touche.