Morning Conversations With My Husband.

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Scene: My husband, daughter and I sitting around the table, all in our PJ’s looking rough from a night of teething hell.  I’m slowly feeding my daughter pancakes as my husband eats the sloppy oatmeal she refused.  I notice there isn’t enough milk in my coffee….

Me: honey, can you please get me a bit more milk for my coffee?

Husband picks up daughter’s sippy cup, filled with milk, and starts sleepily shaking it upside down over my mug.  Nothing comes out.  He shakes harder.  Still, nothing.  After what seems like minutes of my daughter and I watching him attempt – with increasing violence – to shake but a single drop from the baby’s cup,  I interject.

Me: darling, they build those so that can’t happen.

Husband looks at me, with dead eyes, and, blinking slowly, gets up to bring me the carton.


2 thoughts on “Morning Conversations With My Husband.

    sweetmadeleine said:
    September 29, 2013 at 7:11 pm

    Oh those beastly, gritty-eyed, post-hell mornings. I know them well and I can sympathize. You feel utterly brain dead.

    Also: Shortly after O was born I made a joke about putting breastmilk in Adam’s coffee and he wouldn’t let me get his coffee for about three months. Just to be sure.

    Hoping tonight is better for you and your mans!

      mamabettybarnes said:
      October 2, 2013 at 9:45 am

      Brain dead is an understatement, especially after a few of those nights in a row 😦 Poor thing. But that’s what God invented coffee for, right?? For zombie moms and dads – I’m sure of it.

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