This is the face of disgust. Two months in.
Except I keep telling people it’s been three.
All that wedding planning, you’d think I’d get the post-wedding time frame down. But no.
Fact: Mr. Quirky is better at remembering how long we’ve been married.
Additional fact: I forgot his birthday.
Well, truth be told, it wasn’t anywhere near his birthday. I was just talking about his birthday and got the date wrong. (In front of his sister.)
I will never live it down.
Trust me. He won’t let me forget.
Kind of like he won’t let me forget that I have the most wretched dish washer loading skills on the planet.
20% certainly not on the bottom rack.
And, 10% are just poorly placed.
And then there’s the laundry. Or rather, the dog bed.
This shot may have been staged, but Mr. Quirky found Gertie sleeping here last night.
Because I wouldn’t let her in the bed because she smelled like a camp fire.
And despite threats, I was too lazy to bathe her.
So, she found the next best thing.
I really can’t blame her. Just like I can’t blame Mr. Quirky for being slightly annoyed when he has to wear his boxers inside out because there were no clean undies. I’m just lucky I have an ample supply of granny panties I mean underwear to get me by for a few weeks.
Marriage = awesome!
Editor’s note: No husbands or dogs were completely neglected in the making of this post.