We have come to the portion of my Halloween prep that involves lots of costume repair.
Why didn’t I do this last year, when everything was fresh in my memory and stains hadn’t had a chance to set in? Because by the end of the season I’m sick unto death of looking at my costume and everything I lug back and forth every night to the haunt. Honestly, it’s a miracle my brushes get cleaned properly.
Note to self: check that brushes got cleaned last year. Shit.
At any rate, there’s some hand sewing that needs to be done and this is tedious work and I, being a lazy person whose brain is actually a ball of ferrets, will not do tedious work unless I am distracted.
So I do it in front of the television. Preferably while snuggling my husband, who is dreamy and smells nice and fetches me ice cream when I mention that ice cream exists.*
ME: (snuggling)What should we watch?
HIM: Something silly. So basically, any of these options on the screen right now.
ME: Hmm… Sixth Sense!
ME: That’s silly?
ME: Then why?
HIM: Because you suggested it.
HIM: And the fact that you would suggest the one thing on this screen that doesn’t fit that description proves you’re an asshole and you deserve to be married to me!
Apologies if you were expecting some sort of Norman Rockwell bullshit. We do not roll like that.
* Seriously, he almost never makes me ask. It’s one of the best things about him. That, and the hugs.