Confession #011
Oh yeah, I hear her calling my name. But it's 2 a.m. and you’re awake anyway.
Confession #012
I was going to leave my hair in the tub drain. You’re right. But I’ll die defending that I wasn’t.
Confession #013
Your chili isn' that good. Really. I’ve just never had the heart to tell you. Your coffee isn't either.
Confession #014
I hate dancehall music. I just don’t get the appeal for you. But I have smiled as you have played it for a long ass time.
Confession #015
I love that you have more colognes than I do. I love that the Macy’s mens cologne woman knows your first name.
Confession #016
Yes, I washed the chicken. I have been rinsing the chicken for 15 years. You do not have to ask me EVERY TIME if I have washed the god damn chicken. If my plan were to give you salmonella, it would have happened a long time ago.
Confession #017
I know how much you detest Chinese Art Cinema. So it makes me love you more when you sit through three-hour movies in subtitles next to me, whilst I weep uncontrollably at the beauty of the story. And yes, I DID know that “Farewell My Concubine” was going to be three hours long. I just knew if I told you that, you wouldn’t come.
Confession #018
I will never tell you what my girlfriends and I really talk about. You’re my husband, but they are my girlfriends. Iron Curtain, Baby. And yes, we talk about you. And they know EVERYTHING.
Confession #019
Sometimes you only have to make me laugh to change my mood. It is not a strategy you use enough. Ditto for the shoulder massage. You’d get a hell of a lot more if you took note of this.
Confession #020
I know you didn’t read this card you gave me. You just picked the first one you came to that said “To my wife”. That’s why I quiz you on the sentiment behind the words on the card. To see you squirm.
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3 comments:
You are really on to something here! Do you want us to put a link on our blogroll, or just spread the word through email so husbands who actually do read our blogs don't come across it? Awesome.
Mind if I link this site on Club Mom?
Hey, I have a confession. Do I leave it in the comments? I can't remember...
But here it is: I get so pissed at you, dear spouse, when you are late for dinner because you've been out running with your buddies. Yes, I know I tell you how I agree that your running should be a priority, it's important to get exercise, blah blah blah. But I've been with the kids all day, the baby is screaming for dinner, and I don't give a shit if you develop a pot belly because you're not getting your run in after work. Get your ass home ON TIME!
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