I’m almost back, but I still haven’t had a chance to draw you a picture. Please don’t hate me. I did try to take a photograph of the Mr’s feet (you’ll see why in a second), but that didn’t work out (that, too, will become clear in a second.) What’s not clear is why the Mr is still married to me, because I say things like:

Me: I hope our kids get my feet.

Mr: What?

Me: Look at how cute my feet are compared to yours.

Mr: Seriously? I hope our kids are healthy.

Me: Sure. Me, too, healthy but with my feet.

Mr: What’s wrong with my feet?

Me: They’re flat. So flat it’s like you’re walking around with flippers on.

Mr: *blinks*

Me: How come you don’t swim faster?

Mr: OK. I get it.

Me (realizing I have overstepped–haha. Get it? Oh my.): No, I mean. They’re so ugly they’re cute.

Mr: Nice recovery.

Me: They’re like the Chinese Cresteds of feet.

Mr: Are you finished?

Me: They’re like the Shar Peis of feet.

Mr (gets up and walks out of the room)

Me: Like the Yoda of feet!

Had the Mr been a Star Wars fan, perhaps this would have been a good way to win him back. And I would have been able to include a picture of his feet for this post. Sadly, he’s indifferent to Star Wars and would not be still for long enough for me to snap a photo.

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13 Responses to conversations overheard in my home

  1. Hand of Zeus says:

    Dysfunctionality – the only kinda overalls that look cute on true love 😉 Don’t ever get mushy on us!

  2. love this. feet are a priority… it’s not like you can get a “foot tuck,” or something when you’re older and they’re even more ugly!

    • the mrs says:

      This is an excellent point. Although if there was such a thing as a foot tuck, I might give the Mr one for his birthday….I kid. Sort of.

  3. Alexandra says:

    I love my feet, too.

    I have such pretty feet.

    My husbands’ are flat and spread out, with that fungus toe thing.

    I’ll stop now.

    And,yeah, the 3 got my pretty feet.

    Thank you, jesus.

  4. Love.
    And yes, I’ve been here too. Sadly, my child is the spitting image of my husband. Cuz I’m cute, dammit.

    Here is where I over share: sitting at lunch while monster #1 is still in my belly, DH and I chatted about what she could be. Volleyball or basketball player (he’s incredibly tall) were my ideas. His: Model! I laughed and said, Honey, I’m cute, you’re nice looking but neither of us have that “Model” quality. His response, “You’ve never seen me in drag.”
    After spitting out my drink across the table, I was speechless.

    That is all.

    • the mrs says:

      There’s always the one you’re growing now. Send that baby some cute thoughts a couple of times a week 🙂

  5. fordeville says:

    We are definitely going to need a photo of the Mr’s feet after those affectionate descriptions. Maybe while he’s sleeping?

    I’m just catching up on your posts after a week away and am so sorry for your family’s loss. How terrible.

    • the mrs says:

      Welcome back! I will work on getting a photo. Here’s what happened when he got home today:

      Me: Hey!
      Mr: What?
      Me: The Internet wants a picture of your feet.
      Mr: No way.


  6. This exact conversation, or variants thereof, can be heard at any given night at the Defunct Curator home. We discuss more height and curls than feet.

  7. Jenn says:

    I just discovered your blog the other day, so I’ve read like a year’s worth of posts all compressed together. I’ve noticed a trend with sleep deprivation. I also saw that you can’t handle coffee. I’m very concerned about your constitution, should you have a baby. You get two hours of sleep in the first two months, and it never gets much better. I finally had to take up coffee drinking when my kid turned three, after my doctor assured me that I did not have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Dude, they NEVER LET YOU SLEEP AGAIN. Be careful.

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