Graham has decided that this is a good time to bring up his dissatisfaction with my hair. THIS, a time when there is clearly nothing else going on; nothing else to be concerned about. He's all: "So... umm... is there anything you can do about that frizz?" And I'm all "well, I could bludgeon you with the blunt end of a pigeon... that would probably fix the problem."
And, you know, maybe I haven't taken the best care of myself since giving-birth-and-getting-my-masters-and-moving-and-changing-careers-and-finding-a-house. Gee golly gosh wizzo, I WONDER WHY?! Also, that's the price you pay for marrying someone who only showers 3 times a week and spends $10 annually on makeup. But we are never late because of me, are we?
But then... then I go to give Evie a bath the other day and I find THIS:
Tell me, Mr. Scobey, husband of four years and father to my daughter, what need have you for PHEROMONES? Is my hair sooooooo unattractively frizzy that you have the need to put yourself back on the market? IS IT?!?
I wikipediad that shizz and you know what I found? Pheromones: "chemicals capable of acting outside the body of the secreting individual to impact the behavior of the receiving individual"
DOES OUR LOVE AND THE WAY I ASK YOU TO ROLL OVER WHEN YOU SNORE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU ANYMORE?
I hope you attract a female. A female WILD BOAR.
And now I bet we are all up on Child Service's radar for bathing our 10-month-old in lady chemicals (or near them. same thing basically.) And when they come knocking on our door I am SO throwing you under the bus, Cracker. Be forewarned.
But then I found this.
So maybe he isn't looking for another woman. It's just that our marriage is boring. Phew. I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER NOW!
**graham really didn't want me to post this. so, you know... I did. love you honey.**
