I'm not married.
Okay, I am.
My other half just sort of wants me to pretend that he doesn't exist when I'm dallying here. (Whisper: on my blog, that is.) He's nameless. Faceless. (Except for that giant strip photo to the left, duh.)
He just doesn't want to exist on the blog. So I sometimes try not to mention him. I won't make a link list of all the posts about or focused on him, but they're there. He just wishes they weren't. A private man, my Mar--oops, I mean my husband. (Nameless, remember.) I suppose I could call him Mr. Megan, but my day-to-day dealings are emasculating enough.
Okay, I am.
My other half just sort of wants me to pretend that he doesn't exist when I'm dallying here. (Whisper: on my blog, that is.) He's nameless. Faceless. (Except for that giant strip photo to the left, duh.)
He just doesn't want to exist on the blog. So I sometimes try not to mention him. I won't make a link list of all the posts about or focused on him, but they're there. He just wishes they weren't. A private man, my Mar--oops, I mean my husband. (Nameless, remember.) I suppose I could call him Mr. Megan, but my day-to-day dealings are emasculating enough.
But pretending I'm married ('cause I am; just not here), I want to say something about my husband (that I don't have). The something I want to say: I like him. I like that if he could, he'd build a bungalow at the nape of my neck and live there happily for the rest of his life (even though he doesn't exist; cause I'm not married).Some things in life are lovely. Smooches at the nape of one's neck are just one of them.
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2 comments:
that is so damn adorable.
You guys are so cute. Damn adorable is right.
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