Confessions of My Crazy Love

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!



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