A few days ago, my coteacher and I sent this kid-written newspaper article to our significant others on the group text chain:
Then today, one of our students wrote a song about us and sang to us. We immediately sent it to the men.
We’ll be sure to publish that in the class paper. Advice column.
We’re not.
(Continuation of I Mean, The Sweatshirt Makes a Good Point )
The first thing Eric did when he walked in the apartment was put the sweatshirt in his closet, then throw the note at me and say, in his most annoyed tone, “You know, it took you more time to write that note than it would have to just put the sweatshirt away.”
But, again, what was the FIRST thing he did when he walked into the apartment?
It’s a marathon, not a sprint.
#training
Eric: “You wrote in your anniversary card that you love when we go splitsies. When have we ever split the bill?”
Me: “No, I meant, like, when we can’t decide between two main dishes– so you get the steak and I get the duck, and we split each dish. You know, splitsies.”
Eric: “So basically you love that you get to sample all the food that I pay for.”
(long pause)
Me: “Yes.”
It sounded cuter in my head.
Me (whining): “Errrrrric….”
Eric: “What?”
Me (stealing his coffee and drinking it): “I have a headache.”
Eric: <on his phone, likely trying to tune me out>
Me (drinking more of his coffee): “I said I have a headache! Are you listening?”
Eric: <mumbled, what-do-you-want-me-to-do-about-it response>
Me: “BUT YOU TOLD ME THIS IS YOUR PARADISE!!!!!!!”
Pretty sure this no longer applies.
You know how in the movies when a character picks up a long lost friend or lover from the airport, and they spot them from afar and begin waving frantically and dramatically, with a wide, shit-eating grin on their face, because it’s just been so long and they’ve been so far away from each other, they can’t contain their enthusiasm?
That’s how Eric waves to me when I’m in bed and he’s on the couch.
We live in a studio.
That moment when your therapist takes out her iPhone to check on the availability of a medication, but then leaves it in her hand, and you are 99% sure she is on her Tinder app for the remainder of your $300-per-hour session. Which is absurd.
Because HELLO?! TILT THE PHONE SO I CAN SEE!
#iwannaplay!
These are the kinds of stories you will hear if you make the mistake of asking your teacher significant other how her day is going.
Kudos to Eric for perfecting the art of pretending to care. He really did ask some stellar follow-up questions.
Eric (using my computer): “What the hell have you been internet searching?”
Me: “What? Nothing. Why?”
On why he likes Eric…
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