Marriage
In bed last night, while trying to enjoy [adult swim]:
“Is that you?”
“I don’t smell anything”
“Did that cat fart? UGH! That stinks like hell!”
“I don’t smell anything.”
Cat goes out and we try to settle in once again.
“That has to be you! I smell it again!”
“I didn’t fart!”
“Jessie, I smell it! It has to be you!”
“Maybe it’s my breath.”
“What did you eat?”
“I had a piece of gouda cheese.”
He moves over to kiss me, and I promptly cover my face with the covers once i get a whiff of the true source of the stench.
“AAH! It IS your breath! Oh my God! Go rinse your mouth out or something! That is nasty!”
Jessie finally manages to swish some mouthwash, but it’s hard to do so when you are hysterically laughing at your wife who is writhing on the bed, face under the covers, and asking how on earth you made your breath smell like a cat fart.
Earlier that day:
We went to do a short-term grocery trip because we were out of almost everything. I was really wanting to stock up on some meat other than chicken because I was having a steak craving big time. Even though we were out of everything and needed many things, Jessie was concerned about only one item: For the two of us, we only had two rolls of toilet paper to last us a week. Must be all the red meat.
