so on the ride home from the airport two weeks ago I showed Steve my hands. "see how nice and soft they are?" he's driving so he didn't look that close. "um, yeah. they're nice."
"wanna know why?"
"no! it's because I haven't washed dishes in five days. well, ok, lotion too."
then he laughed. He laughed! he did not take me seriously or believe me that not washing dishes could have anything to do with me having nice hands. How could a family of seven and no dishwasher not equal yucky hands? And now I sit here with cracked skin at the base of my right middle finger and dry yucky hands. See. I know what I'm talking about.
tsk, tsk. you would think he would know that after 12 years. (of knowing me. just 11 of marriage. don' t know why I feel the need to clarify that but I do.)
I still love the guy. He bought me a two pound box of chocolates for Valentines Day and that's gotta count for something, don't you think?