It’s been maybe more than once that my husband has said, “do we really need another coffee mug?”
It’s been 20 years. Today is our 20th anniversary, and while it’s really been a wonderful 20 years, when he talks crazy like that I begin to wonder if he knows me at all.
Uh, hello. How do I pass up a mug that so resembles my father? Takes me back to listening to vinyls in our garage recording studio. Strobe light all. Strobing?
And wasn’t it actually my husband who said my next tattoo should be a black heart? I believe his words were “get it somewhere in the open, so people know what to expect.”
And I’ve got hobbies. Is that a crime?
Don’t worry, friends. I’m not a quitter. I won’t give up this fight.
I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.