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!
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.