My husband is growing out a beard this fiscal year. p.s. That is a french fry. This he does with energetic vigor and pride, regardless of my dismay and the copulatory frigidity resulting in said dismay. Facial hair on men … Continue reading
Last night I woke up to the sounds of my husband heaving. Actually, I woke up before he started puking, because he was coughing quite noisily (likely what led to his unfortunate wee-hours-of-the-morning gagfest—sometimes he coughs so hard he accidentally … Continue reading
This is what I told the girl at the cosmetic counter who sold me the cologne I bought yesterday for Poor Kyle when she found out it was an anniversary gift and asked me how marriage was, since she had … Continue reading
Some time ago, when I started thinking about taking on the project of redoing our office, I stumbled upon a box of old letters to my husband, which he received while he was serving a mission for our church. The … Continue reading
Over the weekend, Poor Kyle and I took a huge leap of faith. Faith in each other, faith in ourselves, faith in the economy, and most terrifyingly, faith in God. We signed some papers that have the potential to put … Continue reading
The number one cause of strife within my marriage (besides that irksome Taylor Swift) is when Poor Kyle doesn’t believe me. I married a very doubtful man. He doubts everything: manufacturers’ promises, the power of exercise, hybrid cars, everything. But … Continue reading
This post marks the first dusty old draft I’ve finally revived in my attempt to clear my Drafts folder out once and for all. One down, seven to go. (Coming up: the worst date of my life, my thoughts on … Continue reading