Today's post is dedicated to my husband. Leonard, you are the apple of my eye, my little love muffin, and the inspiration for so many blog ditties, that I don't even know where to begin. You see friends, Leonard is just as big of a random weirdo as I am. Quite simply, the man is the peach to my cobbler.
I figured I would just illustrate why he's right up my alley by giving you snippets of some of the conversations that we have had, just within the past week.
Sitting in the car...
Me: Do you think I'm cute? (I don't fish for compliments. I go right in for the kill.)
Leonard: No. I think you're beautiful. And I'll still think you're beautiful, even when we are both old, ugly, and flappy.
Me: Did you just call me "flappy"??!?!
Leonard: Noooo. I just said that when we are OLD we'll both be flappy. We can be flappy and happy together.
Me: Dear God. You think I'm going to be flappy.... Me, with my old lady flappy arms. You, with your old man flappy balls. Evens Stevens.
Sitting in the car, during a separate occasion...
Me: Quick. If you had the choice between having laser beam eyes as a super power, or shooting wolverine claws out of your fingers, which one would you choose?
Leonard: Easy. Wolverine claws. No brainer.
Me: Pppbbbttt. I would choose laser beam eyes. 'Cause this way I could shoot my laser eyes at people that are at far distances.
Leonard: Yeah, but then I could also fling my wolverine claws at people far away too.
Me: Umm. No you can't. They would be retractable claws. Kind of like cat claws, only made of metal. You could go around scratching people like a cat. And then people could start calling you Puss in Boots.
Leonard: Why didn't you say so?!?!?! You need to clarify these skills. Laser beams. I want the laser beams.
Me: Too late, Puss. You've already made your choice. And I want a cape.
Watching t.v. when a commercial came on about people having difficulty taking a dumper...
Leonard: Why is there a lady with a fancy basket, walking around first class in an airplane handing out pooh treats?
Me: Ummm. What?
Leonard: The lady on t.v.! Doesn't she think that people back in coach need to pooh, too?
Me: Why the hell is this woman handing out pooh treats on an airplane? Is that what you get in First Class? Besides an egg salad sandwich, you also get pooh pills?
Leonard: (Hypnotized by the television screen, absolutely dumb founded by the fact that this woman is not offering her Metamucil delights to those that are behind the curtain.) I just don't get it...
Me: I'm more concerned about the fact that you're upset about something that you refer to as "pooh treats."
There you have it. Just a tiny snippet of why the husband and I are weirdos. :)
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