On Saturday night, we were sitting in our apartment doing a puzzle at the card table, listening to music, and generally being awesome.
Me: “Wow, I haven’t heard this song in forever.”
CB: “Yeah, this is an old one.”
Me: “It’s got to be Michael Jackson circa the late 70s. And we’re singing along.”
CB: “Yep, that’s us! Listening to music from the late 70s acting like we’re in our late 70s.”
Me: “We’re a good time.”
A few weeks ago, I came back from running errands and was really excited about the fact that I’d walked by a store with adorable baby clothes that I couldn’t wait to buy.
Me: “Guess what’s going to be awesome for me during this pregnancy?”
Silence and glaring.
Me: “Um, no, but I hope you like sleeping in the living room, because it is now your new bedroom.”
CB, laughing: “I’m just trying to make sure you’re keeping your sense of humor while you’re pregnant.”
Me: “And divorcing my husband?”
CB: “So then no, you’re not keeping it?”
Me: “No, I’m too busy exercising.”