It is true that I was born blond. I’m ok with that.
Yesterday we were talking about our workout.
Hubby: “I think these new headphones are working out great with my ipod.”
Me: “That is great.”
Hubby: “I just forgot to wear my sweats with pockets so I had to set it on the machine. I tried putting it in my underwear band but that didn’t work out real well. It kind of looks funny to be listening to wires that go to your crotch.”
Me: “I could imagine it would.”
Now at this point there is a long pause. It is important because during this pause I have started to think of about forty other things. The next portion of the conversation is us talking about two complete different things.
Hubby: “I’m listening to this new radio station. KDICK”
I wonder if this is the new station I’ve heard the silly morning talk show on.
Me: “Really? What kind of songs do they play?”
Hubby: “Long ones.”
Me: “Well, duh, but I might what kind of genre.”
Hubby: “Hard rock.”
Me: “Oh. Do they have a morning show?”
Hubby: “Uh, honey? Did you hear what station I said? K-D-I-C-K”
Me: “OH!!! Long! Hard! I get it!”
It’s a good thing I’m pretty. He might leave me otherwise. On second thought if you read this post you will think he is the lucky one.