I confess . . . I leave broken egg shells in the sink. I know about salmonella. I know that the shells muck up the garbage disposal. I know. I know. I still do it.
I confess . . . I sweep up the floor and leave the dirt and crumbs in a pile. I am lazy. I don't want to find the dust pan. . . and I know that hubs will pick it up as soon as he sees it.
I confess . . . I forget to shut the garage door. ( In my defense, the button IS six feet high and clearly not in my five foot two line of sight.)
I confess. . . I have accidentally emailed my hubs' school secretary about how he had polluted the bathroom that morning.
I confess . . .I do not screw the lids back onto containers correctly. Consequently, hubs has dumped an entire jar of chili powder into his chili instead of just a few tablespoons.
I confess. . . I laughed about the chili powder.
I confess . . . I laughed until I cried about the chili powder.
I confess . . . I have fed my hubs string (Yes. Actual string!) for dinner causing him to think that I was trying to kill him.
I confess . . . my van should play the theme to Sanford and Sons. At any one time, there may be decaying french fries, a used sucker stuck to the window, and 6 coffee cups left behind in order to make my van a science experiment on wheels.
I confess . . . I get a little irrational at certain times of the month. I cry unexpectedly, like at Geico commercials. I yell about stupid things, like when hubs put his foot underneath the area rug and wrinkled it. I vacillate between "hold me" and "get the hell away from me!"
I confess . . . I may be underestimating the above. I am all out crazy. Hubs has come home to entire rooms rearranged and painted. . . just because.
I confess . . . I drive hubs crazy . . . crazy in love!
******************Linking to Mama Kat's today!**************************