water babies

We have been filling out the weekends with summery-events that remind us that this is summer and not the other 11 months of the year when my shoes get drenched during the walk to the bus stop and I have to squish squish squish my way to work, trying to listen to my iPhone and NOT SMELL the man sitting next to me. So yay for summer!

The community wading pool has been a lifesaver. The longer Nathan chases his cousin around the pool, the less likely it will be that he’ll wake up at 11PM, walk downstairs while Mike and I are watching Saturday Night Live and act like we didn’t notice our toddler out of bed and say, “HEYYY GUYS!!! I didn’t know Ana Farris is hosting tonight! Awesomesauce!”

And speaking of water, can I tell you something that my husband does which he thinks is TBS VERY FUNNY and not a big deal but I’m all, no dear sir, this is the POLAR OPPOSITE OF FUNNY. Sometimes when he has an almost empty bottle of water, he will walk over and pour the remaining amount ON MY HEAD. It’s never a lot of water, mostly a trickle, but it is extremely annoying because my hair frizzes up easily and THIS IS WHAT A CHILD DOES.

We made a tentative agreement yesterday that he is never to do that to me again and I will not mention how he said that Morgan Fairchild is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, an agreement which includes, but is not limited to, never adding this line to random non-celebrity related conversations: “Oh you mean your girlfriend, Morgan Fairchild?”

So annoying pouring of water on the head? Any ladies (or men–heeyyyy!) with me here?

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Comments

  1. My husband once squirted me with a Super Soaker full of stagnant, mildewy water because I said “You wouldn’t dare.” I’ve never said the words “You wouldn’t” to him since.

  2. Water on the head is definitely annoying, especially since I’m right there with you on the hair frizz.

  3. The water thing? NOT COOL.

    šŸ™‚

  4. I wish my husband would just pour a trickle of water on my head. His annoying habit is to walk by and slap my ass real hard.

  5. Two words: dutch oven.

    My husband works evenings and will often come home, crawl under the covers, pull said covers over my sleeping face, and let one rip. Nothing says I love you like butt stank.

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