I’m an open-mouthed sleeper, which often results in chapped lips.
You know, from drool.
(Someone married me!)
To remedy this problem, I have asked Eric to please close my mouth for me while I sleep. As any husband would do for his wife.
Me, this morning, upon noticing my lips are chapped: “Ugh, this is all your fault– you didn’t close my mouth in my sleep!”
Eric: “I prefer to close your mouth when you’re awake.”
That amazing moment when you’re packing for the first wedding that isn’t your own wedding, and you realize it doesn’t matter what the hell you pack, wear, do, or say, because no one gives a fuck about YOU this weekend.
Me: “Ok, so I thought about it and it turns out I don’t actually have to feel guilty that I’m going to the Outer Banks a couple days before you. I mean I still do feel guilty, but I don’t actually have to.”
Eric: “Huh? Why would you feel guilty?”
Me: “Because I’m leaving you here alone to go have fun! But then I thought, if we add up all the hours you were at Phish without me, then really, we’re even on the ‘I’m doing my favorite thing without you’ scale. So, see, I don’t really technically have to feel guilty.”
Eric: (silent bafflement)
Eric: “That can’t possibly be how your brain works.”
Oh, but it is.
Given the tagline of this blog, or what anyone can decipher from reading no less than three random posts, etiquette is not really my thing. I just don’t know the rules, and somehow I’ve reached age 35 without developing any kind of learned or innate sense for them. So help me out here.
Eric and I received a card from people who attended our wedding. We are prettttttty sure, given the wording of the card, and given who these people are, that they meant to include a check, but forgot.
Now, to be clear, it’s not that we’re so concerned with getting a gift, we just think these people would want to know if they forgot to send it. Right?
Also we want our fucking gift.
No no jk. Seriously, it’s the first reason I said.
So what’s the next step here? We considered calling them and being like, “Hey, cool card! I think the money fell out!” but there’s still that 5% chance they purposely chose to not give a gift.
Here are some ideas we’ve come up with:
- Write them a thank you card for their card.
- Split Uber fares with them until we’ve totaled the amount we’re pretty sure they would’ve given us.
- Have another wedding and let them try again.
- Instead of posting this post, “accidentally” email it to them.
- If doing #4, erase #4. And #5.
- Buy a corgi, send a thank you card for said corgi, include receipt for corgi, along with this emoji . When they call us to be like “Um, we didn’t buy you a corgi,” be like “You didn’t? The corgi guy said it was from you! Sorry, what DID you get us?” and when they’re like, “We sent a check,” we’ll be like, “Ohhh, funny thing, we actually got a card from you and there was no check in it!” and then we all laugh and they re-send a check and we pay for the corgi ourselves.
- Do #6, but if instead of saying “We sent a check” they say “We gave you a card,” say “WELL NOW YOU GOT US A CORGI TOO, MOTHERFUCKERS!” and hang up. Laugh maniacally. Stroke corgi.
- Post this post, have everyone who sent us a card wonder if they are the subjects of it. Field many texts.
Eric: “So I was just with an older woman in the laundry room and she sees me putting clothes in the dryer and she’s like ‘What is this– a man doing the laundry? Really?’ And I was like ‘Yeah, of course!’ and she’s like ‘Really? Wow. Your wife doesn’t do the laundry?’ and I was like ‘Well, my wife and I split the chore 50/50– she does all the folding, so I do the washing and drying part’ and the woman was like ‘Oh my goodness, your wife is SO lucky!'”
Me, throughout this entire story:
It’s exactly as romantic as they say.
“Ok I joined every corgi Facebook group.”
— Eric, 4 seconds after I agreed to get a dog.
I just spotted Eric’s wedding ring on the nightstand…
Turns out I cannot deposit this check written out to “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor” while I am still technically Emily Lerman.
This is how it begins.
Tutoring a 7-year-old…
Kid: “How old are you? 21?”
Me (laughing): “No, close though. 35.”
Kid: “35?! So then you have kids, right?”
Me: “No, I do not.”
Kid: “But you’re older than 30. Everyone older than 30 has kids.”
Me: “That’s not true at all, lots of people over 30 don’t have kids, and many choose to never have kids.”
Kid: “No, all adults have kids.”
Me: “So, again, not true. I would LIKE to have kids, though. But not yet. I JUST got married!”
Kid: “But you don’t have to be married to have kids.”
Me: “Well, yes, THAT is true.”
Kid: “You don’t even have to be a mom and dad to have kids– you can be two moms or two dads. Or just a mom or just a dad.”
Me: “That is absolutely true as well.”
Kid: “I know. Duh.”
Me: “It’s funny to me that you know all THAT, but you don’t know that lots of people over 30 don’t have kids.”
Kid <thinks about it…then shrugs>: “I know what I know.”