Commenting on a slightly unfortunate incident this evening, I remarked, " Oh well. Live and learn." Brad's reply was, " Die - and really learn." I thought that was chucklesome.
Another comforting observation he made recently, when I was expressing some of my fears of childbirth, was, " Just think of the pioneer women." And my reply was, "Yes! They died!"
And while I'm reporting on Brad's recent sayings, I might as well tuck in the one about when I was bemoaning the toll that bearing children will take on my body, he said," Well, you've been beautiful for so long that it's okay if you're ugly for the rest of our marriage." Oh. Okay. So now I guess I'm free to be an unmitigated hag for the next fifty years - what liberation.
I like Brad.
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3 comments:
Oh my goodness, that one had me laughing!! Brad does have a way with words.
I've heard that you don't reach unmitigated hag until the 3rd or 4th child. My grandmother had 5 daughters and, thanks to the stress, she regained her figure in no time!
I've always wondered how the pioneer women did it. Covered wagons and drafty cabins don't seem like ideal settings for the miracle that is birth. No epidurals, no down time, no maternity leave, no Blues Clues and Barney and Sesame Street. Okay, so there might have been some benefits back then...
unmitigated hag - Hee hee hee - I love you!
This is my favorite post EVER! I just read it aloud to Brent and we're both laughing so hard.
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