Last night we went to a wedding, and the beau proceeded to get kinda… toasty. I brought him home and put him to bed, and while I was finishing up in the bathroom we had the following exchange:

Me: “I feel guilty for eating that pizza at midnight.”
Beau: “You shouldn’t feel guilty. You already had some cheese.”
Me: “What?”
Beau: “I was just preaching. Because nobody bought anything at the parade.”
Me: “Oh yeah?”
Beau: “Yeah. I was just preaching. Nobody bought anything at the parade.”
Me: “Okay, then.”

I would not be a good wife if I didn’t milk his half-asleep drunken nonsense for all it’s worth. To wit:

Beau (answering phone):”Hey, baby.”
Me: “Hi, I’m calling because I’m curious as to whether or not anyone bought anything at the parade.”

Or:
“You know, I was at the parade, and I didn’t see anything worth buying.”

Or:
“I know I’m just preaching, but you should really consider picking your clothes up off the floor.”

This is what marriage is all about, isn’t it?