And That's When I Picked My Jaw Up Off the Floor

Actual conversations that have happened in our house over the last few weeks.

Scene 1: 6 days before we have "family photos" taken with a professional photographer.  Kitchen.  Our house.

[Husband]: So I guess I can't get a haircut this week.

Me: What?

[Husband]: I'm already inside the two-week window before I'm be in professional photographs.

Cue jaw on floor.

Background: Whenever [Husband] gets what he alleges is a trim at the barber, he ends up looking like a Marine recruit.  It takes about 2 weeks for his hair to lose the "freshly chopped" look.  Before our wedding, I marked on the calendar the absolute drop-dead last day he was allowed to get a haircut because "you will not appear in my ${too expensive} professional wedding photos looking like we're shipping you off to boot camp next week."   In defense of my shallow behavior, there was also a drop-dead date for my last eyebrow wax and a reminder to me to shave my legs the day before the wedding.  What?  I practice equal-opportunity ridiculousness.

Scene 2:  Weekend morning.  Kitchen.  Our house.  Husband returning triumphantly from grocery run for breakfast goodies.

Me: So what'd you decide to get?

[Husband]: Oh, blah, blah, breakfast items, blah...and turkey breakfast sausage.  I just couldn't bring myself to buy the regular sausage.  It has such high fat content.

Me: Ok.

Cue jaw on floor.

I take this all as proof that he is actually listening to me when I think he's not.