My friend H always used to say that I'd have to marry Christofer because he was the only boy in the world capable of putting up with me. Not very flattering, but probably true. Today when I came home with frigid, purple-colored, ice-cube-like hands, I walked right up to him and thrust them into his shirt, against his chest. He gasped, flailed, and screamed like a little girl. Then he said: "I love you!"
"You love me?"
"I love you!"
"Oh. Well, that's good."
"I must love you. Otherwise I'd have killed you by now."
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3 comments:
I meant it in the best possible way.
And I was right.
At least you found the guy who will put up with you. I personally thought it would take a lot longer. Not that aren't you aren't amazing and fabulous and special in ever way. It's just that...well....it's you. I expected three or four dead or maimed fiancees before the actual husband came along.
Reason #2 why I can't look at these during work:
I laugh really really hard and then they know I'm not working.
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