Beau and I were going to go to the movies on Saturday, but on our way in, I stepped in a gigantic hole in the sidewalk, twisted my ankle, fell down, injured my foot and my pride, and started crying (something I normally don't do, but it was just one of those days).
That effectively put the kibosh on the movies for us.
So we stopped for some food and went home to find something on TV.
We ended up with true-love romantic classic Sid & Nancy. Heroin abuse really brings out the romance, doesn't it? (Word to the wise, if you're thinking about getting involved with a heroin addict, be aware that they can get a bit stabby.)
After the movie was over, Beau and I shared this loving exchange:
I will never love you enough to stab you in the stomach in the throes of a heroin binge.
I will never love you that much either, baby.
Swoon.
Then we watched one of our favorite shows (sad but true), 48 Hours Mystery. Or, as we've lovingly renamed it, Husband Kills the Wife (though sometimes they do switch it up a bit and have wifey go berserk with a Black & Decker). Many of those murders happen for life-insurance money. But a number of them happen because one spouse just gets sick of the other one.
Why not divorce? Nine times out of ten, they'll tell you that they couldn't divorce because The Church frowns on it.
Hmmmm....
But The Church gives a pass on murder, dismemberment, and a hasty desert burial using a Rubbermaid container?
This leads me to another romantic agreement that Beau and I have made:
Honey, if you ever dislike me that much, just dump me.
Ours is a romance worthy of a Gershwin tune, I tell ya.
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