I was a little ticked at my husband today. Yet again, he (fill in the blank.) And so I had to (fill in the blank again.) And with the way the day started out I sure as heck didn’t want to (you’d better sharpen your pencil.)
It really made me angry.
So, I was still fuming a little this morning, after I dropped the kids to school. The light turned yellow and then red. We were stuck at a pretty long traffic light. I say “we” because the car ahead of me had a really cute guy in the driver’s seat.
Sandy blond hair. White shirt, tie. Driving a clean, black luxury vehicle. Ooooo, he just looked at me again in his side mirror.
He smiled at me. I smiled at him.
Ahhhh, I remember my single days. Carefree. Free to look. Free to dream. Free to — whaaaaa?
Was that a stream of spit I saw spewing out the window? Ick. Ewwwww, and another? Are you kidding me?
No longer checking me out, he then tosses his still burning cigarette butt onto the street. Does he not know that cigarettes take 25 years to decompose? What a litter bug! What a slob! I feel sorry for whoever lives with….
Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
He’s picking his nose! Gross. He’s rolling it around between his fingers and he just flicked THAT out the window!
That did it. He just committed, in a minute and twenty-second time period, the Trifecta-Of-Nasty-Habits-And-Why-I’d-Never-Date-You.
Thank God I’m already married.
(I am so lucky, Honey! You are the best husband EVER! )