We have issues with the televizzle in our home. As we sat down, on the floor, to eat our dinner from Cafe Rio' tonight, my choices were as follows: Football, more football, basketball, more basketball, CSI Miami-New York-Las Vegas or COPS. I opted for basketball because football is yucky and shows about murder don't really suit me, especially while eating dinner. What do I want to watch? VH1 documentaries, a show about a baby giraffe, people flipping houses, or another rerun of America's next top model. You can never get enough Tyra can you?
I got to thinking that we don't share the same vibe on much of anything. Movies? Minus the last Bourne movie, I couldn't tell you the last time we saw or watched a movie that I like. "Put it in the Que" I'm told time and time again, but by the time "Elizabeth" or some other funky English movie arrives, I'm no longer interested and if I don't watch it in three days, he sends it back to Netflix so his next shoot-em up movie can come along.
Books? Nope. Nothing in common here either. I like good stories, with a little bit of history thrown in. Ross goes through spurts. Always reading something where someone is murdered, books about how to become a millionaire, or about India. He's totally into India.
Politics? That's a swear word in our house. Sports? opposing teams. Weather? I like seasons and Ross just likes hot. Pajamas? I wear them. Covers? I sleep in long sleeves with the sheet and comforter pulled up to my neck. Ross sleeps on top of all of it. Bossiness? Yes I am and he just won't do what I tell him to do.
Look at our bedside tables for example. Ross' is full of books, his nighttime sippy cup, his flashlight book light, and the remote control for the fan.
Mine? A picture of me and Ross from our wedding day, baby butt paste, blistex and tissues, because I have boogers and I cry all the time.
Music? Not much the same here, either. I like soft, sleepy music from Iron and Wine, Sting and Guster. Ross likes bands whose names sound dirty like Wolfmother, or put demon puppets in their videos like Interpol.
This is starting to sound depressing, isn't it? For not having much in common, we seem to, for the most part, get along pretty well. We are both the first born and both blond. We both like Coca-Cola. There's something in common. And, we have a baby. That took some major "something in common" to get the monkey into our lives. We each use a broken alarm clock and this morning we were both scared by the same spider.
Ross had already showered and it was my turn. As I pulled the shower curtain closed, on the inside waterproof thing, was a giant spider. It was hurdling itself towards me and I shut off the water, grabbed my towel and ran out of the bathroom. Luckily, Ross was right there, starting a load of laundry and I told him of my predicament. Though he was mocking me initially, when he saw the spider, flinging itself towards him, he jumped back and yelled a little. It was big. We woke Elliott up with all our commotion. Ross killed it with a towel and then put the towel, with dead spider, into the washing machine.
I can never do laundry again.
I got to thinking that we don't share the same vibe on much of anything. Movies? Minus the last Bourne movie, I couldn't tell you the last time we saw or watched a movie that I like. "Put it in the Que" I'm told time and time again, but by the time "Elizabeth" or some other funky English movie arrives, I'm no longer interested and if I don't watch it in three days, he sends it back to Netflix so his next shoot-em up movie can come along.
Books? Nope. Nothing in common here either. I like good stories, with a little bit of history thrown in. Ross goes through spurts. Always reading something where someone is murdered, books about how to become a millionaire, or about India. He's totally into India.
Politics? That's a swear word in our house. Sports? opposing teams. Weather? I like seasons and Ross just likes hot. Pajamas? I wear them. Covers? I sleep in long sleeves with the sheet and comforter pulled up to my neck. Ross sleeps on top of all of it. Bossiness? Yes I am and he just won't do what I tell him to do.
Look at our bedside tables for example. Ross' is full of books, his nighttime sippy cup, his flashlight book light, and the remote control for the fan.
Mine? A picture of me and Ross from our wedding day, baby butt paste, blistex and tissues, because I have boogers and I cry all the time.
Music? Not much the same here, either. I like soft, sleepy music from Iron and Wine, Sting and Guster. Ross likes bands whose names sound dirty like Wolfmother, or put demon puppets in their videos like Interpol.
This is starting to sound depressing, isn't it? For not having much in common, we seem to, for the most part, get along pretty well. We are both the first born and both blond. We both like Coca-Cola. There's something in common. And, we have a baby. That took some major "something in common" to get the monkey into our lives. We each use a broken alarm clock and this morning we were both scared by the same spider.
Ross had already showered and it was my turn. As I pulled the shower curtain closed, on the inside waterproof thing, was a giant spider. It was hurdling itself towards me and I shut off the water, grabbed my towel and ran out of the bathroom. Luckily, Ross was right there, starting a load of laundry and I told him of my predicament. Though he was mocking me initially, when he saw the spider, flinging itself towards him, he jumped back and yelled a little. It was big. We woke Elliott up with all our commotion. Ross killed it with a towel and then put the towel, with dead spider, into the washing machine.
I can never do laundry again.
1 comment:
Likes repel, opposites attract.
Mom
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