If you have had the pleasure of meeting us you know this is, perhaps, an ((epic)) understatement. Eric is the one who keeps the house running smoothly and I’m the one who comes up with all these great “ideas” that send the household into chaos. Basically, I’ve got an awesome wife ((OY VEY! He is so going to stare pointedly at me when I get home this evening!)).
As if being spoiled rotten and willful ((I prefer this to stubborn which is what Eric calls me.)) wasn’t bad enough, I am also…a little nuts ((or fucking crazy, whatever.)). To illustrate this I will share a little story about Eric and my turtles.
“Turtles?” you say. “You’ve never mentioned turtles before!”
I know, and there is a really good reason for that! These are dream turtles. I have never had turtles of any sort until last night but I love them fiercely. I love them in, maybe, unhealthy ways. I love them so deeply that this morning when Eric woke me up, I jerked away from him and gave him my back because he had killed my turtle eggs. That bastard! Once I was fully awake and realized that 1. I was now awake whereas, previously, I had been dreaming and 2. I have no turtles, all was forgiven.
Of course, poor Eric had no idea why I was so violently pissed off at him when we hadn’t even said good morning yet. We were late, very, very late, so I didn’t have time to explain it either. It wasn’t until we’d finished breakfast that I finally remembered to tell him.
“Remember this morning when you tried to cuddle with me?”
“Did I…growl…at you?”
“No, you didn’t say anything. You just rolled over.” ((To the furthest edge of the bed, lol))
“Oh, I thought I might have but you totally deserved it! You were an asshole in my dream!”
“My turtles were getting it on and then she laid eggs and you put them in a pillowcase and smashed them on the floor. You killed my turtles.”
“You killed them!”
“Fine, potential turtles and you killed them. I’m still kind of mad.”
Yeah, Eric says, “…” a lot. He really does deserve that medal…