Me: Oh loving, adoring husband, could you, would you, pleeeeaaaase, shave my legs for me.
MJ: Fuck no, I don’t love you that much. Shave your own legs.
Me: I can’t. I can’t bend over far enough to reach them, cuz my back is broken, remember?
MJ: I do not care one iota. I’ve done enough for you this week, including pulling down your underwear for you to use the bathroom, and we came *thisclose* to me having to actually wipe your ass. Deal breaker. And now you want me to shave your hairy legs? What’s next? Popping the zits on your ass?
Ok, so he didn’t really say all that, and I don’t have zits on my ass. But he wouldn’t shave my legs for me, so I have the right to talk shit about him on my blog.
Me: Tee, come here a minute.
Tee: Whaaaaaaaaaat? Snarky snark snark.
Me: Would you shave my legs for me?
Tee: Fuck no, you ole haggard bitch, I will not shave your legs.
Me: Why not?
Tee: You can do it yourself, just prop your leg up on the couch and viola! Plus, they aren’t even hairy yet.
Me: I look like I have carpets made out of gorilla backs tied to my shins. Shave them for me.
Tee: Ask MJ to shave them for you.
Me: I did, he already said No.
Tee: Well, do you know WHY he said no mom?
Tee: Because that’s just GROSS, mom. It’s GROSS ok? And nobody is going to do it for you.
Later on, I am relating a particularly funny FB conversation to MJ, that has me in tears from laughing so hard. Tee hears me and comes out of her room.
Tee: Are you in here crying?
Me: Yes. I am crying, because you won’t shave my legs.