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I’m not sure


This is my husband.
He’s *hiding* under the covers, waiting for me to brush my teeth and do all the girly before-bed things I feel I must.

When I walk back into the bedroom, he’s going to pop out and *scare* me.

I don’t know what I love more- the fact that he thinks he is going to scare me, or the abject horror he will experience when I pretend to have a heart attack after he does.

It’s all fair in love…

"The only time to eat diet food is while you're waiting for the steak to cook." Julia Child

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