I asked Mike if he could switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer before he went to bed on Friday night. He said: "Sorry, I'm Shomer Shabbos" (language warning: nsfw, or littles).
After watching me carry over the same gigantic basket of laundry the next day, Mike said, while sitting on the couch watching college football: "Oh sweetie, don't worry about folding that.... I'll have the girls do it" (he did end up folding it later that night).
|Quipped Mike in response to my picture-taking on our date: "We were having a moment. Now you've ruined it."|
While out to dinner the other evening, I asked the waitress what the "legendary margarita" was, before she could answer Mike said: "They're the ones you heard about in stories when you were a little girl." No laugh from the waitress. Loser.
After a listening to a long stint of me complaining about how uncomfortable I am and how I don't want to go anywhere during the day, let alone move at all, and how I am so sick of being pregnant and huge, Mike said: "You better be careful or you're going to end up like the mom from "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?", only angry." (He was kidding. I think.)