Husband of the century. Still under debate.

by Katie on November 12, 2009

The night we returned from Brandon’s deer hunt, I was unloading the cooler and heard him banging on the back door in the office, flashlight in hand.

I let him in and realized he had a regular flashlight, not his scorpion-hunting blacklight flashlight.

“What were you doing out there?”

“Oh, I was just checking to see if I was going to get the Husband of the Year Award.”

“Oh really? And how did that go for you?”

“I’m more like Husband of the Century. We have green grass. And I’m not talking about green bermuda grass. Green rye grass.”

“So how does that qualify you for Husband of the Century? A green yard was practically a prenup for us. It’s the only way I agreed to move to the desert.”

“I said I would give you a summer yard. I didn’t say anything about a winter yard.”

“Well, I just said a green yard. Period.”


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