People always claim to have a craving for the truth until they have had it served to them. Then they might not like the taste of it. They should have had a carrot instead.
The lesson here not to ask your other half dumb questions like, “Does this make my butt look big” because there’s no good way of answering.
Today I mentioned to MW that I wondered if I had any grey hairs yet in my massively long mane. His response was to come into the kitchen and rummage through my hair like a middle-aged woman in a garage sale box. Then he swore he saw one on the back of my head. . . I didn’t really want to know it was there. I would have loved a blissfully ignorant, “Of course not Dear. You’re too young for grey hair. You’re so vibrant and beautiful still.” Instead I got the truth, which I always ask for, that there probably was grey hair on my head where I can’t see it. Thanks buddy, thanks.
Cool stuff on the interwebs – It’s Monday and I need Coffee
See what I think about his opinion in my store this week with the Caution: Age Rage shirts and drinking glasses. Oh and hoodies… I need a new hoodie.
What happens when I combine box wine, a mason jar, and hooded pink footie pajamas. It’s classy y’all.
This glass pendant from Etsy that I’m coveting for my jewelry making. It’s like the flower bloomed inside the glass.
A little stuffed square of awesome monster goodness. I’m pretty sure she stuffed it with magical clouds. At least in my head anyway. Then it could come alive and poke MW in his sleep for telling me I have grey hair.