Friday, August 20, 2010

Two vignettes that make me happy

1. Last night the Man and I were walking on the bike path on the way to a barbecue* party thing**. We passed by the froofy Davis Square lofts (priced anywhere from $400K through $1M). I always want to sign us up for a house tour even though these are not practical places to live for us or me or the cats. But still. You know.
So we stop because there's an open house sign (but it's too late to go in since it was after 8pm) and the lights are still on inside, and I want to see inside so much. The Man drops towards the ground and says:

Man: Get on my shoulders.
Leslie: What? No that's nuts.
M: Just get on there. Maybe you can see.
L: The shoulders though? How about I get on your back?
M: Just do it. (At this point a couple who had been nearing us on the path turn around and walk away from the crazies)
L: Ok. (And I totally get on his shoulders and we are adults and I weigh about 135lbs...)
M: Can you see anything?
L: I can see stainless countertops and a beautiful faucet and wonderful light fixtures. I can't see the floors.
M: They're probably concrete.
L: I know. Le sigh. Ok I can get down.
M: smiles
L: I love you.
M: I know what you like.
L: Yes.

2. This morning we get up at my place, and I suggest that the Man take a shower because the hot water heater at his place has just broken and he agreed. Once he's out of the shower and dressed and I'm about to get in the shower he says:

M: Um. Is that me? What smells? What smells like feet?
L: Maybe I smell like feet? Smell me. He leans in to smell my neck and surprise-kisses me.
M: You don't smell like feet. You smell like goodness.

Mouse update: I have not found the mouse. I think the mouse has exited the house.

*I ALWAYS spell this with a "Q" where the "C" is. It should be "barbeque", that's all I'm saying. There's the "Q" sound right in the word!
**Since I'm dumb I accidentally knocked the top from a small Webster grill and it burned my right calf. It hurt. A lot. Luckily I have a mutant aloe at home. But still: owie.


Just Another Idealist said...

I'm STILL laughing at both of these. Dude, OF COURSE it was him that smells like feet. Duh.

Leslie said...

NO I SWEAR IT WASN'T!! There was a pan from the morning before when I made cheesy eggs. THAT'S what smelled.

Though, I did SUSPECT that it was him that smelled of feet...

die Frau said...

Boys do tend to smell like feet. It just happens.