Frank and I are sitting on the couch, watching old DVR’d Saturday Night Live episodes. He’s leaning against me while I am trying to master this terrible game called Bejeweled Blitz. My mother is addicted to the game, so if I ever want to relate to her again, I need to learn this game.
ANYWAY. We’re sitting here and I burped through my nose.
You know, the polite way to burp.
But as Frank has explained to me on several occasions, this does not “descent” the burp.
So anyway, I polite burped and blew it out my nose – and onto Frank.
A few seconds later.
“Oh… ohh… EM! Seriously?? Did you just burp? What was that? Seriously – that is nasty – really? It’s not funny. Stop laughing. It’s gross. I’ve told you before that is gross. Why would you do that? Why? Seriously. No, stop laughing. You knew it was wrong. Why?”
“Frank, c’mon, I mean, I didn’t realize it would be THAT bad.” Although, admittedly, we just finished ravioli with pesto sauce and bread with chunks of garlic cloves in it. So yeah, I guess I kind of knew in the back of my head that it could get ugly.
Frank moves over to the other side of the couch.
“I gotta put this on the blog.”
“Don’t put it on the blog.”
“I have to. I am trying to authentically document our life together.”
Frank shakes his head is clearly disgusted. “You are the grossest wife EVER.”
A few minutes later, Frank is watching Community and giggling to himself.
“Oh, hey, Em, I realized today that I owe you an apology for something.” I look over at him, surprised. A rare moment indeed!
“Really? For what?”
Joy of joys!
Realization passes over Frank’s face.
“Yeah, but I’m not going to tell you.”
“Yeah, seriously. Oh man, the look on your face…” [insert uncontrollable laughter] “… it’s like that thing from Star Trek 2 that Kahn puts in the guy’s head to make him go crazy. Blog that!”
And so I did.