Tuesday, November 24, 2009

From the mouths of husbands

Me: What's that smell? It smells like something is burning. The Mr: It's the pizza. I like it crispy. Me: (trying to be funny) I like my husband crispy. The Mr: So your going to eat me? Me: No, thanks. I'm not into cannibalism. The Mr: So if we were in a plane crash in the Andes mountains and I died. You wouldn't eat me to stay alive. Me: Nope. I'm not going to do it. The Mr: Would you feed me to our son so he can stay alive? Me: No. I would find other ways to provide for him, not involving eating you. And hopefully he would be with one of our parents so he wouldn't be in the plane crash in the first place. Plus, I would have to cook you before I fed you to the butterbean. The Mr: Well what if you didn't have any fire? Me: I still wouldn't eat you. The Mr: Hey, do you want a turkey? Me: What? The Mr: One just showed up on my farm in Farmville. ::End conversation::

No comments:

Post a Comment