No, I’m not talking about language.
I’m talking about my daughter. She’s probably somebody’s idea of a perfect wife (in twenty years or so):
She likes football.
She loves to get nekkid and run around the house. And the yard. And the street, come to think about it. Pretty much anywhere.
And one of her favorite activities is unloading the dishwasher, followed by doing laundry.
What’s not to like?
Oh, yeah: her dad can be a real asshole.
My mom instincts make me an asshole too. I don’t care how perfect a wife Elle would make, she’s not dating until she’s 30 and I’m dead.
I’m quite convinced my husband first fell in love with me because I watched baseball and could name the starting lineup of the ’86 Mets. No comment on the running around nekkid thing…. =P