Just wanted to walk you through yet another clanger from the mouth of my less than smooth operator husband.
Soon we will be sharing office/warehousing space so that Grumpy can continue his distinguished career as a mad genius inventor type while I attempt to keep my boutique PR firm growing.
I’ll get the office space while he will be in the warehouse and storage area tinkering with his gloriously geeky EV and engineering mates.
I’m very excited!
My two business partners and I have more or less decided that we’d like to go for a 50’s chic motif in order to align with our ethos of recycling and up cycling and classic and timeless values. Plus, rummaging through sally army stores and antique furniture places will be a heap of fun and a bonding experience I hope.
So, earlier today, I invited Grumpy to join me for lunch next to a kitchen installation guy I needed to see about the new office kitchen. The place is called Armadillo cafe in Rothesay bay and it is amazing! And the decor is spot on what I want to do at our offices. I HIGHLY recommend this great little cafe, the food was nice and the decor was lovely! It is called Armadillo Cafe and it is in Rothesay Bay and it gets an 8/10 from this Hobbit.
Grumpy of course hated it…
Anyway, I cheekily said to him:
“Well, you don’t have to like it, you just have to pay for it.”
To which he responded:
“Yeah, just like sex.”
And then looked at me, grinning and obviously pleased with his signature wit. He waited for me to laugh.
I did not laugh.
What does that even mean? He still, even after my posting this is moderately proud of his wit, which does make me more than a little bit confused. Do I demand money and favours in return for coitus? And is the resulting act regularly dull and unsatisfying? Or is he referring to a secret stash of call girls and mistresses that he manages to entertain in the non-existent hours we spend apart? Whatever he meant, I found it nauseating, not charming. Sigh.
So, on the bright side, he had to change a rather massive explody diaper. As I passed him the baby he said: “I think it is your turn to change the baby!” to which I responded: “I think after that little gem of jerk face nonsense it is now YOUR turn to change the baby and you’d be lucky to ever get laid again as long as you live.”
He will continue to pepper our days with painfully inappropriate and tasteless clangers, and I will continue to roll my eyes and sigh.
If you, like me had to endure a hubby with no filter who says s*** like this, I feel for you. Lucky underneath all that he’s got a heart of gold, and I hope yours does too.
If, like my dear friend who popped in for a coffee on her way home from work tonight, you have a husband who is sweet and would never consider saying things so daft and painful, go and hug that man of yours for being a sweetheart.
Over and out for today.