So I need to post quickly, as there is something amazing happening in the Miller household. It's 9pm, the baby's down, dinner is over, dishes are done, my reports are sent in, and we've been hanging out in front of the television watching some Scrubs we never saw when it was on. So there's the scene.
It was at this point that I had a minor melt down, and commenced the whining about how much I want sugar right now, ("Shaaaaane, get me suuuuuugar!!") something in the form of brownies or cookies or, yes, ICE CREAM. Unfortunately, we stupidly choose to not keep these things in the house, because when I am grocery shopping I'm typically not PMSing and it's not late at night. And I care more about what the scale says than I do at the moment. Shane suggest that I go, since, logically, I am the one who wants the stuff. I said no, I wasn't going to go, it's late, it's unnecessary, blah blah blah.
And I'm assuming that this is the end of the story, until Shane starts strapping on his shoes and asking what FLAVOR I'd like!! This is serious business, folks. First off, Shane doesn't really want the ice cream. He's not that big on sweet stuff and would never make such an effort for himself. Secondly, Shane didn't even make late night trips to help with my cravings when I was carrying his child! Shane despises the grocery store more than, like, any other location on the face of the planet!
So there you have it folks, it seems I'm wearing him down. My husband has taken a liking to me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go shave. As a reward for unprecedented niceness, SOMEONE won't be forced to sleep next to Sasquatch tonight.
Nighty night y'all!
Stories and gripings about exercise, dieting, life, and what it's been like learning to leave the love handles behind.
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