Does This Make Me Look Fat?

As it turns out, asking your husband, "Do you think my new blog post is funny?" is pretty much the equivalent of asking, "Does this make me look fat?" 

You think you want an honest answer, but what you really want to hear is:

"It was hilarious" which is the same as "You look hot!"

That answer is far from guaranteed of course, because husbands being husbands will tell it like it is. And you get:

"It was okay. Not as funny as some of the others. You were rambling. (Daggers being shot across the table)  It was amusing." (I know, deja vu all over again, right ?!?) which is the same as "You look fine, let's go." 

The latter, while not entirely negative, does not convey the message of how awesome you are hoping you are and triggers a mini tirade on your blog which is the same as at least 3 more outfit changes.

It was a trick question and shame on me for asking. I should know better. I stopped asking the does this make me look fat/my ass look big/my boobs look small/me look short question eons ago. Now if I say anything it's along the lines of, "Do I look okay?" and I'm pretty much guaranteed a "Yeah" (how hard is that really) and sometimes I get a "You look great." Win-win. 

This blog really is intended to amuse myself and by that measure it is a success. I would be a big fat liar though, if I claimed that I'm not downright giddy that a few people are reading it. Those of you who have commented here or on fb or told me in person that you enjoy it have made my year! Just so you know, Scott has said a couple nice things to me about the blog. Plus, he is a treasure trove of material so he gets points for that! I just need to either A) Stop asking him about the blog or 2) Come up an equivalently benign inquiry like... um... "Did it seem like I remembered to spell check?"

Bonus: Conversations with Scott... Touche

Scott & I were sitting outside the other day when the dog dropped an unidentifiable animal appendage at our feet. Scott picks up my flip flop to bat said appendage into the planter bed.

Me: Don't use my flip flop for that!

Scott: It's closest.

Me: Don't! Gross! Use your own shoe! You should be nice to me!

Scott: Why?

Me: I'm your wife.

Scott: And?

Me: You love me.

Scott: And?

Me: If you're not, then I will write embarrassing things on my blog about you.

Scott: You can't threaten me with something you already do. 

Me: Touche.

Peace & Love :-)