Move Aside, Fiona!

Yesterday we went to my father's house for dinner. Nothing special, just dinner and drinks with the family. So about an hour or so before we left I started getting ready. I showered, I got dressed, I put on my deodorant. Then I combed my hair, brushed my teeth and started putting on make up. When I was done, I blow dried my hair and pulled out my flat iron. At which point, the following conversation ensued:

Hubby: "You know we're just going to your dad's, right?"
Me: "Yes, but I never get out anymore so I decided to look somewhat presentable." Hubby: "It's not that big of a deal."
Me: "I know."

My interpretation of this conversation went something like this."

Hubby: "What the hell are you doing?"
Me: "Trying not to look like an ogre."
Hubby: "Why?"
Me: "Because I feel like an ogre."
Hubby: "Well I'm used to you looking like an ogre."
Me: "Fuck you."
Hubby: "No thanks, you look like an ogre."


  1. Nice use of the word Fuck. You've done me proud. Plus, you're fucking hilarious.

  2. I have the same conversations in my head!

  3. I read Piers Anthony and this reminded me of his boob series, Xanth. Random.


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