I can only assume that Eric gathered up all his Broncos gear today because he wants me to burn it all in one shot before we live together, so that there’s more room for us to buy things that we can BOTH appreciate, like lacy throw pillows, jeweled trinkets from Anthroplogie, and designer handbags.
Ok, fine. I’ll do it.
Because I love you.
Eric and I decided to move in together. He told his mom, and her response was the following:
“That’s great! Do you need help with anything? If you want to store anything at my apartment, please feel free! Let me know what I can do! Congratulations! Very exciting!”
My mother’s response:
😒
I started my pee medicine! Now I won’t have to run to the bathroom every 10 minutes like a coke addict!
Oh and also Eric and I are moving in together.
(I think he was waiting for the pee thing to be under control…)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Eric: “Oh god….what IS that?”
Me: “The reason I had to make you fall in love with me before winter.”
I slathered half a jar of vaseline on my face.
Yeah. I lit a candle.
Eric is still holding a grudge from that time, back in the spring, when I rejected his invitation to a Mumford and Sons concert, especially now that I have a growing appreciation for live music (thanks to him).
#strategy
“I’m getting on that piece of wood with you.”
— Eric, making it very clear what he will do should we find ourselves in the same situation as Rose and Jack after the Titanic sank.
Eric (while cutting up the duck he cooked for dinner tonight): “Ugh, this duck is so fatty.”
Me: “That’s ok. I like my duck how I like my men” (cue laughing at my own joke).
Eric: “Well, good. Because I like my duck how I like my women.”
(20 second silence as he eats a few vegetables, cuts some more duck, takes a sip of water)
“…cunty.”
Sitting on the beach with my kindle…
Me (without lifting my eyes from the screen): “You know, I have to say, I really didn’t like this book at first, but it’s taken an interesting turn and now it’s actually getting pretty good.”
Eric: <No response. Because, unbeknownst to me, he had gotten up and gone to the Tiki bar to watch football.>
Me: “If I die and go to hell, I imagine that my hell would be me eternally trying to spread hard, cold butter on a giant waffle.”
Eric: “My hell would be having to watch and listen to you doing that.”
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