At least, I think that’s who he was. It’s possible a passing lunatic came by to murder me but, seeing the truck outside, had a change of heart and murdered the exterminator instead. Then he stole the uniform and sprayed orange juice around my house so I wouldn’t wonder what happened to the real exterminator.
Unlikely? Sure. But it would explain the giant fucking spider Hamilton killed last night while I watched Orange is the New Black.
Anyway, between those two posts you might be wondering if I’ve forgotten the stated goal of this page: to bring you truthful, accurate reports of the things my husband says in the form of my actual conversations with him. I promise you, it is not so! Here, let me soothe you with a quick sampling of what it’s been like, living here with him.
Let’s start with the bit where posted about my move and my Meth Ghosts (who are totally real and you’re going to read more about them soon because some stuff happened but today is not the day for that) and one of you commented thusly:
This was a horrible thing to say and caused me to have the following text conversation with Husband, who took time out of his day—at his new job, where they are paying him to make sure things don’t fall out of the sky and kill you while you’re driving home tonight, so you’re fucking welcome—to explain that my readers are wrong and Jesse and his new crew are not in my attic cooking meth.
ME: Could this house have a secret attic space we don’t know about? With meth cooks in?
HIM: Well, it’s not so much secret as inaccessible. We do have a slightly pitched roof, and only the living room, kitchen, and front bedrooms having ceilings that follow the roof line. So there might be some attic space above, besides what’s used for the AC vents.
ME: But there couldn’t be like, PEOPLE in there, right?
HIM: Not living people.
ME: You are the LEAST helpful sort of husband!
HIM: I got theater tickets for this weekend.
ME: You are my FAVORITE sort of husband!
He explained more when he brought me the tickets. It turns out, his new company has season Muny tickets, and they give them out to employees.
Now this is the sort of perk I can get behind! Sure, some of my friends are publishing important research and getting their kids free tuition at the university where they work, but I almost got hit by a glove during Gypsy Rose Lee’s last striptease, so who’s really living their best life?
I’d say me, but then we had to come home. Where this other thing happened.
ME: Also, before I forget? There’s a weird scary gross bug in the hall bathroom.
ME: I think it’s dead, so if you could just…
ME: You know… Take care of him?
HIM: No! He signed a DNR!