My Husband Is In My Brain

Yesterday, while watching bad TV with my husband, the subliminal messages in the commercials were really starting to work.

I wanted Chocolate Milk, and I wanted it BAD.

Damn you, adorable Nesquik bunny!

But, we were in our comfortable, legs-intertwined just so, took-us-10-minutes-to-get-settled-into-this-perfect-position TV positions on the couch when this desire arose. And I was too comfy, and too lazy, to head to the kitchen to investigate our fridge to see if I had the necessary tools to produce said chocolate milk. Plus, there was the question of whether I could actually HAVE the chocolate milk, since I knew I was close to meeting my Weight Watchers points for the day.

An hour, and 3 more chocolate milk commercials, later, Brian heads to the kitchen to scare up a late night snack. “Abby,” I hear, “We DO have chocolate syrup.”



Have a 30 second argument with myself that chocolate milk isn’t a total sin and I think I have a few points left anyway. Check Weight Watchers on my phone, discern that I can have chocolate milk, but it will send me 1 point over on the day. Decide that’s not the end of the world and convince myself that it’s a-ok. Happily, I skip to the kitchen to whip myself up a cold glass of chocolatey-chocolate goodness.

Then I see the dinner dishes. And the slightly messy kitchen. And the full dishwasher that needs to be unloaded.


Tell myself that Brian will be gone all day tomorrow, and I can take care of the dishes first thing in the morning, thereby procuring more free time to spend with him tonight. But it will only take 10 minutes to clean this up, then I won’t have to do it in the morning. Plus, dirty dishes overnight—ew. Except, Brian is sitting in there, waiting for me to come back and snuggle with him on the couch. Guilt guilt guilt, back and forth, back and forth. Dammit! I know, I’ll knock it out REALLY super-fast, and then I’ll reward myself with chocolatey-chocolate goodness. I roll up my proverbial sleeves and start cleaning like a mad woman.

Five minutes into my impromptu cleaning session, I hear Brian laughing behind me.

A: What?
B: I thought you were coming in here to fix some chocolate milk?
A: I’ll get to it in a minute.
B: (laughing) You’re totally doing the dishes first, because you’re feeling guilty about chocolate milk, and you convinced yourself that if you cleaned the kitchen first, you could use the chocolate milk as a reward, which also justifies going over your allotted points for the day.

I looked at my husband, stunned, and started laughing like a crazy person.

It’s scary, and somewhat exhilarating, to be married to someone who knows you so well, it’s like he’s living inside your brain.

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