Me: Do you want me to read this to you?
Troy: No. I'd rather you read me what you wrote.
Me: I didn't blog today.
Troy: You didn't?
Me: No. I was bad. I wrapped your presents instead.
Troy: Well, I guess that's okay then.
That's right, Internet world, my husband is turning old* tomorrow. Happy last day as a less old person, Troy.
*I had his age here and he pretty much just freaked out about how he doesn't want the world to know just how ancient he is. I told him I promised not to share with you all that his childhood best friend was Abe Lincoln. Oops. Well, now you know.
On another note, while I don't want to use this blog to get overly political, at this point I am kind of thinking about submitting my wonderful (albeit old) husband as a write-in candidate if I continue to believe that neither the elephant nor the donkey represents me or my interests. Anyone care to join me? After all, I'll vouch for his character and he did learn a thing or two from Abe. Oh come on, I'd make such a darn good first lady. You know I would. I'd be all, "Hey, tonight we're barbecuing hot dogs on the White House lawn. Troy, I mean, um, Mr. President, will totally be running through the sprinklers with our toddler. After dinner I plan to loudly play Girls Just Wanna Have Fun while dancing on the Resolute desk in the middle of the oval office." I mean, I'm sure Laura, Hillary and Barbara never did that. Yeah. I'm so much cooler than them.