This week I most certainly did not have multiple breakdowns over fuzzies and wrinkly pillows on my couch. That would be so trivial. I definitely didn't make Mr. Superman go sit on the couch in the office so the sectional in the living room could stay smooth and fuzz free. That would be something some crazy OCD person would do, not me.
I for sure didn't have a very serious discussion with Mr. Superman about the competition between tacos and burritos and their differing "classiness" levels. I didn't argue with him for 30 minutes insisting that tacos are indeed way classier and so much better than those gross rolled up things called burritos. No way. That's something someone in junior high would do, not me.
I definitely didn't wake Mr. Superman from his slumber Thursday night. I didn't nudge him, then poke him, then shake him awake. When he raised his head in irritation questioning, "What?" I didn't proceed to respond with, "Wake up booger" then roll back over as if nothing had happened. I didn't because nothing did happen. I don't walk or talk in my sleep. Only weirdies do that, not me.
Early on Saturday morning, I didn't yell out, start crying, or pee my pants a little when thunder and lightning decided to creep up and strike a tree in our backyard. That would be a little dramatic right? I didn't make Mr. Superman hold me until I stopped crying and fell back asleep. That is something a six year old would do, not me.
I'm so glad none of these things happened, that would be so embarrassing.
♥ Mrs. S.