My boyfriend’s “manly thoughts”

I haven’t written a blog in a LONG time!!! Sorry about that, but my new boyfriend, Jim, sent me this today and I thought it was hilarious, and worth a read. Those who know me will especially enjoy it. 😉

Manly thoughts on being the chic in a relationship….

My girlfriend and I have the perfect relationship so far. She’s a writer and I’m a complainer. She’s also a bit sadistic, which plays into her hands very well, because she loves making me complain so much. The other day she nearly crossed a line. She told me I’m the chic in this relationship. I was so mad I nearly took my apron off and threw it at her. But the oven timer went off and I had to take the muffins out to let them cool. So I just stomped my foot on the floor and was passive-aggressive the rest of the day. That night she kept pushing me to talk, but I had my avocado face-mask on and damn if talking doesn’t interfere with its ability to exfoliate properly. I mean, geez louise, you’d think that when a guy has a bubble bath running and candles lit, a girl would get the hint that I’ve gone into “me time.” But she never does.
We’re just not into the same things, you see.
She likes Nascar.
I like poetry.
She likes the Celtics.
I like celtic jewelry. Especially those crosses with the intricate vine filigree knot-work wrought all across the things.
And she doesn’t get how disturbing it can be to a guy to claim he’s the chic in the relationship.
Can you believe that shit?
Just to think I wanted to make her one of my famous French toast casseroles. Ha! And to make matters worse, she told me that I needed to change my wardrobe for her. This was after I said something about getting my hair done so I could look nice for her on our next date. It took me forever and a day to find the proper stylist to give me just the right look. Does she even have one iota of what a guy goes through to look good for his girl?
I think not!
First he has to find the right color combination for his dating ensemble. I’ve been loosing weight, and want something slimming… which of course means something dark. And then he has to find shoes that don’t lift too much and don’t interfere with his stride, especially if he’s babysitting for her and her sister. Chasing a five year old can be murder on the feet. So can shopping for candles and and jewelry boxes.
Oh lord.
I just read what I wrote.
Maybe I am the chic in this relationship, after all.
But damn it, I’ve got an apron that says, “Men do it in the kitchen, too!” so that’s gotta count for something, anyway. I’ve gotta go for now. I’ve got a mud mask mix on the stove and think it’s starting to dry out.
Hmmm.
I wonder if I should put some chamomile in it.
They say it works wonders on crow’s feet….

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