Setting: Hubs and I sitting in my office at the computer. Looking online at Tommy Bahama Seer Sucker shorts. For Hubs.
Hubs: (clicking the mouse and clacking the keyboard) See babe, these are the shorts I was telling you about. Aren't they friggin' awesome?
Me: (playing with my Blackberry.) Mmm hmmm, those are real nice. Mmmm hmm.
Hubs: I wanna get them. But they're $120.
Me: (throwing my Blackberry in the air) WHAT? You are not spending over $100 on a pair of SHORTS, Hubs. No. (Waving a finger a la Mariah Carey in the air) Not happening.
Hubs: (rolling eyes) But you can spend $40.00 on a jacket at Banana.
Me: (gasping and clutching chest) That jacket was amazing! I seriously can't believe you right now.
Hubs: (clicking on something else and ignoring me) Well, these are okay too, I guess. They're not quite as expensive. Only $78.00
Me: (taking a closer look) Wow, the models on this website have KILLER abs. And they shave their legs, too, did you notice that. Are you going to start shaving your legs someday? Cuz I don't know how I'd feel about that. (Leaning back in my chair and staring at Hubs expectantly.)
Hubs: (looking at me, mouth open, convinced I'm joking. Which I'm not. He should know this after 2.88 years of marriage.)
Hubs: (minding his words.) Um, babe? Those models? Are mannequins.
Me: (pushing Hubs aside to get a closer look) Get outta here! They are? (Tilting head to the side) Oh yyyeah, they are! I guess that explains the waxiness. (sensing Hubs' is concerned for my mental health and aptitude.) But really, I was sitting far away from the computer and I wasn't really paying attention, so that's why I didn't notice they were mannequins.
Hubs: (patting me on the head like a lost child) It's okay, babe. You don't have to explain yourself to me. It's not your fault.
Me: What's not my fault?
Hubs: (continuing to pat my head) Shhh...it's not your fault.
Me: I COULDN'T SEE THE COMPUTER!
Hubs: It's not your fault, Kim.
Me: If I'd have looked closer I would have realized they weren't ACTUAL people!
Hubs: (pulling me in close for a huge) It's not your fault.
Me: (squirming to get away) STOP IT! I'm really going to hurt you now.
Hubs: (letting me go.) So can I get the shorts?
Me: (snorting) No.
Hubs: Hey, this girl modeling the Tommy Bahama swimsuit is HOT.
Me: Shut up.
(If you don't get the "it's not your fault" reference, I'm so ashamed of you. Go rent "Good Will Hunting" and then come back and read this post again.)