The Mr.

I wish I went out as often as the trash does. 

I'm sitting here after all the dinner work wondering why I haven't been taken out. 

I mean on a date. 

Not taken out like what I envision would apply to the teenagers. 

An actual door opening date. Don't get me wrong, I totally love the Mr. Molly Mormon, but that man works. 

In all honesty it's my fault he works so hard. Six kids coming out of my uterus will do some stressful things to a man. I spare you the details at who's fault that really is. 

I just had the horrifying realization that the highlight of my evening has become an only slightly entertaining game of losersaywhat  with my seven year old. Followed by an extensive conversation as to why he is never allowed to give his sisters Purple Nurples. 

I actually wonder what people do going out as often as they do. Movies may have lost all appeal. When did I get old enough to fall asleep at movies?!?

I did get all dressed up a few nights ago. I had an exciting evening at the grocery store. We were out of milk. 

That was fun. Good times. 

I'm actually pretty grateful. I could have a snoring social life and snorefest of a marriage. 

In as much as I've decided how uneventful my evenings can be, I'm enlightened by one pure fact. The husband is pretty amazing. How could I be bored with Mr. Molly Mormon. 

I've compiled a list. 

One...

We get to have conversations like this all day while we're at work. 

I mean...that's just entertaining on a Monday afternoon. 

Two...

He just bought me two brand new vehicles. What high maintenance wife is going to complain there? 

Three...

He puts up with an obnoxious mouthy wife who thinks everything she says is funny...when in reality...only a slight fraction of the words coming out of her mouthy behavior call for a slight smile. 

Four...

He is to blame for the six kids. But it could be worse. They could be ugly. 

Disclaimer: above children mentioned could possibly be ugly however biasly portrayed by the author of this post. 

Lastly...

He's very humble. Which is crazy because anyone who knows me will completely understand that that is a perfect example of opposites attract. 

Me? Humble? No go. 

As long as he's here I'm totally happy to never go out again.