Reasons I know that my husband loves me:
- Before I take a shower, he shakes out my towel to make sure there are no centipedes in it. Because one time there was a centipede in my towel and it freaked the fuck out of me. And Rich doesn’t want me to have the fuck freaked out of me. Because he loves me.
- He picks my wedgies for me. I can not psychoanalyze that one. But I am pretty sure he wouldn’t do that if he didn’t love me.
- When I fall asleep too early on a Thursday night and miss the chance to go to the deli that closes at 9pm in order to buy puppy chow to have for a special end of the week breakfast on Friday before work (with some amazing coffee, of course), he gets up in the middle of the night, finds a 24 hour grocery, buys the ingredients for puppy chow, and slaves away in the kitchen so that the first thing I see when I wake up Friday feeling bummed about missing out on puppy chow, is a kitchen table full of bowls of puppy chow. Whew, longest sentence ever. I am pretty sure this means he loves me.
(Also, sometimes he just plain spells it out for me.)
- The Terror of Seymour the Centipede (helphayleehelphaiti.wordpress.com)
- Muddy Buddies/Puppy Chow… A great snack to share! (jlewis47.wordpress.com)
- The weirdest centipede ever (whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com)
- Wedgies (shiptheocean.wordpress.com)
- I don’t like centipedes (mauraholcomb22.wordpress.com)