Monday, March 30, 2009
So yesterday I was at my daughter's soccer game, and there was a Dad there with his new second wife and she was like 26. And pretty. And word has it she was a professional cheerleader.
So I decided I needed to have a serious talk with my husband.
Me: If I die, I don't want you to marry a cheerleader.
Me: Or a model or a Hooters girl.
Husband: Are you planning on dying soon?
Me: I could die in a fiery car crash tomorrow. You need to lay these things out. Kind of like a will.
Husband: Except instead of giving things away, you're taking things away.
Me: She can't be prettier, or younger, or skinnier than me.
Husband: Can she cook better?
Me: (thinking....) Sure.
Husband: Better housekeeper, more organized, budget-conscious?
Me: I have no problem with that. Oh! And she can't have a blog.
Husband: Oh, damn.
Me: Well, unless it was like a cooking blog.
Husband: Gotcha. So someone fat, old and unattractive who can cook.
Me: Yes. And you can't go out with our friends.
Husband: What, me and Mrs. Doubtfire can't have a social life?
Me: No. And I want a big oil painting of me over the mantle.
Husband: What if you just sustain massive injuries in the crash that require years of rehabilitation and I have to take care of you in addition to my job...then can I date a cheerleader?
Me: An old, fat cheerleader.
Posted by HappyHourSue at 9:34 AM