My husband projects an image of gruffness and cool when serious, is charming and flirtatious when playful, and full of masculine machismo when surrounded by other manly-manly-men types.
Only those of us who know and love him best know the deep, dark, dirty truth. My husband is a consummate geek. A geek who happens to be married to an adoring but mercilessly snarky wife.
Take, for example, this IM exchange we had today. I was ecstatic to find a copy of "Where the Wild Things Are" for sale at a local kids boutique. Jack and I made plans to read it before his "quiet time" this afternoon. I had to share my find with T, for whom this book also holds a special place in childhood nostalgia.
ME: We went to the consignment shop after coffee. The boutique in the back? It had "Where the wild things are". I bought it for 8 bucks. I regret nothing!
HIM: That's okay, I'm going to GamesWorkshop which I found down the street and spending 300 dollars on miniatures.
ME: Huhwhat? No you're not! Especially not if you want the carpets cleaned, you're not. We have Stanley Steemer coming in on Friday.
HIM: Clean houses don't make me happy! My spiritual center is found within pewter army men with laser guns.
ME: That is wrong on so many levels.
HIM: You should incorporate that statement somewhere in your life. I suspect your life would improve by a good margin for at least 10 minutes after saying that.
ME: Sure. It can be my "incantation of +10 life quality". Now roll for the bonus!
HIM: Come on now! My bag of dice are feeling tender - I don't touch them as much as I used to!
ME: I won't be touching your "bag of dice" either if you spend 300 bucks on pewter figurines. Might wanna take that into consideration...
HIM: Touché.
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