Ok, I'll break under pressure: Thursday Thirteen.
Thirteen Things S. and I disagree on:
- The undeniable fact that is hotness of Halle Berry, Ty Reese, Paul Walker and other non-famous people. I am right.
- It being a good idea to have kids. Or when, how many, (ie: He's requested a "basketball team" of boys that range in height from six to seven feet tall. I laughed in his face and may have used the term, "I fart in your general direction.") boy vs. girl, etc, etc. ad nauseum.
- The leaving of the seat up in the middle of the night, causing what I call the splashdown factor. Disgusting!
- How cool it would be to move to a 'big ole' house in the country' (Him: Delusions of Grandeur. Me: Realistic and aware that we would both hate it.)
- Watching Dr 90210. Ever. (Him: Ugh....hey wait, are those, boobies? Me: Ohhh! Coool!)
- How incredibly urgent it is that we finish (read: drop extensive amounts of money on) doing the yard. Now. Yesterday. Because it appears that large, rabid gophers have attacked, regurgitated a bunch of weeds, rocks and weird plants and moved on. (Me: I've got two kidneys, let's get to work! Him: Manana!)
- If we need to get a new car. (Me: Whyyyyy? It's paid for, and it works! Him: I like ... that)
- The number of pairs of shoes that are required to be individually packed in plastic bags so as not to damage each other (at least six) to go somewhere for three days.
- Wine vs. Champagne - actually this isn't so much a disagreement as a mutual decision not to share.
- How many black T-shirts are needed to support human life. (By his count: 328. Mine: T-shirts are icky on me, so how 'bout... five, saved for working in the yard.)
- Humour value of Family Guy and South Park. I say yes, he says 'baaaaaabe, no do!"
- How many times per day it is appropriate to pass gas by pointing your butt directly at your spouse. Me: None, zip, zilch, zero. Him: 12
- How fun swimming is (Me: Duhhhh! the best! Him: Can you drag me around the pool some more?)