This blog—as you’ll have noticed from the title and the other posts and basically everything—is about the conversations with my husband. I like him, he likes me, we spend time together and we talk.
This is the time of year all that changes; my haunt is in full swing and we’re now on opposite schedules (highly recommended for couples who secretly hate each other, btw). Thus I present to you: Actual Texts From My Husband, including Conversations With Various Zombies, Clowns, And At Least One Demon.
DEATH: Your husband?
ME: Yeah. I guess he got in just as I was leaving.
GRIM SPECTRE: What?
ME: All those times I asked him—I ask him every time—
CREEPY DOLL: What did he do?
ME: Locked himself out of the house.
GRIM SPECTRE: (laughs)
ME: Every time we leave I ask him, “do you have your keys?”
DEVOURER OF INFANTS: They never listen.
ME: And every time he gives me this look. Like, duh. But now he’s locked out and I’m here…
FILTHY CLOWN: (peering over my shoulder) You keep your windows open?
ME: (leans away) NO. But I don’t know what else to tell him. I’m not a locksmith.
BLOODY RABBIT: OUTSIDE FOR MEETING!
ME: (shows texts to cultist) Didn’t I tell you he’s the sweetest cat?
CULTIST: Awww! But… why hasn’t he called a locksmith?
ME: … He’s an engineer.
ME: He’s an actual genius.
CULTIST: Some people put all their points into intelligence and none into wisdom.
ME: (lets Husband into house)
HIM: Thank you!
ME: Okay, but I’m still hungry.
HIM: Need to get warm (grabs spare blankets, piles them on bed)
ME: (tilts head) Did you eat dinner before your little adventure?
HIM: (miserably) NO.
ME: So… aren’t you hungry?
HIM: (miserable and muffled by blankets) yes.
ME: So… come with me and we’ll grab drive thru. It’ll be quick and I’ll blast the heater.
ME: C’mon. You’ll warm up quick and then you’ll just be hungry.
HIM: Okay, but first I want to pee inside.
HIM: (gets up)
ME: Wait… did you pee outsi—
HIM: (slamming bathroom door) I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!