Love Ya, Mean It

Last night. Couch. Reading Wall Street Journal. Some article about buying the perfect Valentine's day gift. (A short red trench coat for the ladies with rosettes hugging the bottom was one option. Really, WSJ? Really??)

Me: "We're not buying each other cards for Valentine's day, are we?"

Blair (without looking up from his section of the paper): "God, no."

Me: Excellent. I love you, honey.

Blair (still not looking up): Love you more. 

It may not be for everyone, but it works for us. 



The Married Life: Lovin' Housework

While eating cereal this morning, I perused yesterday's edition of the Wall Street Journal and read the following tidbit aloud to Blair: 

"A new study shows that for husbands and wives alike, the more housework you do, the more often you are likely to have sex with your spouse."

"I'm cleaning the litterbox!" called Blair from the hall where he was, in fact, emptying out the litterbox. "Whoo-hoo! Let's get it on!" 

It's getting more and more dangerous to read the paper.