At Least He Keeps It in His Pants

 

I’ve been wanting to give you an update on Husband’s progress, but… well, for various reasons I’m gonna hold off a bit longer on the medical update.  But hey, he’s hitting other milestones, so let’s talk about those!  

 

 

First off, he’s getting better at being a passenger.

 

Deadpool is shocked

I know, right?

 

 

The trick: just hand him the phone and let him play Pokémon Go.

 

ME:  (talking, driving)
HIM:  (playing Pokémon Go)  I am a passenger.
ME:  (glances over) Yes, you are honey.
HIM:  (looks up)
ME:  That’s very deep.
HIM:  … ?
ME:  You are.  You are always the passenger.
HIM:  (looking down) I need more balls…
ME:  (laughs)
HIM:  You’d think they’d be able to tell that I’m a passenger.  They’ve got the GPS info, and the NSA satellites.
ME:  Pokémon Go is not affiliated with the NSA.
HIM:  That’s what they want you to think.

 

 

who sent you?

I’ve hidden the tinfoil.

 

 

However, he’s starting to lose track of time.  I don’t mean just the normal sleeping in, staying up late thing – we’re gamers, so that’s actually considered a good thing.  No, this has gone over to a whole ‘nother, very strange place.  Frankly… I’m worried about him.

 

 

ME:  So let’s go to the store.
HIM:  You want to go to the grocery store at 8:00 on a Sunday night?
ME:  …
HIM:  Saturday night?
ME:  Friday.
HIM:  … One of those!
ME:  Yeah, you’re bad at days of the week.  We should get you those special underpants.
HIM:  I’d just wear them wrong.

 

 

Superman's Thursday undies

Like this asshole.

 

 

 

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