Conversations with my Husband

Gosh, do I ever have the silliest conversations with M. So ridiculous that I might need to make it a weekly topic.

M: “Just got home from work and V is tearing the house apart. He keeps bringing me things I haven’t seen before. Most of them are your shoes.”

J: “Ha! Wait. What? Where is he getting these shoes from? I don’t have that many shoes.”

M: “Sure you don’t. Ahem. Anyways, he just came out carrying a pink stocking…”

J: “….??? What? That must be yours.”

M: “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

J: “Well, I know those aren’t my stockings as I don’t have any pink ones, so they must be yours…hahaha… you own pink stockings!”

M: “Your Christmas stocking? You know, the one that’s pink fake fur? That’s what I mean by ‘stocking’.”

J: “Oh. I totally didn’t visualize a Christmas stocking, I was thinking about stocking stockings. Like panty-hose. You know?”

M: “….Way to date your self. Hahahahahahahaha… what are you, 90? No-one calls them stockings anymore!”

J: “What? Ha! TONS of people call them that.”

M: “Sure Mildred.”

J: “Hahahaha… don’t call me that!”

M: “Whatever you say, Gertrude.”

J: “I liked Mildred better.”

And it went on from there. Am I really the only one that calls them stockings? Am I from 1912? Do I have too many shoes?

Tune in next week for more ridiculousness…

xoxo a.m.

Amused

As I came home from the gym this evening, I was welcomed with the lovely sounds of chatty V… Currently Little Man is babbling away and excitedly says ‘Mama’ and ‘Dada’ when either of us enter a room.

It pretty much melts my heart every-time he calls me ‘Mama’ in such an excited tone of voice. If I wasn’t sure how devoted I was to him, hearing ‘mama’ uttered on a regular basis has turned me into the ultimate baby slave. Since I already was (as is the whole family) this is more of a public confession than a realization.

Am I spoiling him? Who cares. M and I love watching him explore and he has free rein of the apartment (within reason, that is).
Every morning when Daddy and V go to the park, M encourages him to climb all over everything. Like he is a mountain goat. I have seen it…. I don’t play like that. I play Mummy-games. Those type of games are more ‘Let’s read a book’ type of games…. things along that line.

Daddy games involve  smashing things. And throwing  things. Violent stuff. Please God, I would like a daughter too….

*Ahem*

Anyways…my big confession of the evening started out with dinner. M made turkey burgers. So good.

Paired with Tater-tots. Also good. Perhaps not as healthy.

As I confront M with that very statement, he immediately got quite defensive. “Jame. It’s just potatoes…. There’s no fat at all”.

I dared to argue with him . Tater-tots do not fall into a healthy category with me. They fall into a delicious category. That’s a little bit different.

Well, my ‘healthy’ confrontation resulted in M storming to the freezer and that was followed by a detailed recitation of the complete health list. “Jame, they are 0% fat… Only 150 calories per 18 pieces. AND I baked them. Jame. Healthy.”

I followed this recital with laughter. M was not amused. I was.