(setting: the kitchen, 8pm on monday night. with jer’s new schedule, i’ve been cooking more lately & spent this particular evening making homemade vegetable lentil soup. it wasn’t vegan on purpose, but i like to consume protein in forms other than meat a few times per week.)
jer: “smells good. what’s for dinner?”
jess: “i made lentil soup! taste it & see if i should add anything.”
jer: (rummages through the fridge, produces a tupperware of leftover pulled pork) “here! can we put pork in it?”
jess: “umm…” (stares at the pork.) “really? you want to add pork?”
jer: (realizing maybe the soup is vegan & maybe that was on purpose) “well…maybe we can just garnish it with pork?”
jess: (laughing) “yes. please feel free to garnish your soup with pork. just don’t touch my bowl.”
sometimes i forget we have different dietary requirements.
(setting: thursday afternoon. i have just arrived home to a sparkly-clean house that smells of pinesol, lysol & general cleanliness.)
jess: “thanks for cleaning house. everything looks great.”
jer: “no problem.”
jess: “is there anything you didn’t get to that i can do? how are you feeling about division of labor?”
jer: “i’m thinking of getting a chore chart for the fridge. put up some gold stars when you help.”
jess: (kind of excited) “ooh! i could work for gold stars!”
jer: (long pause) “…what if there’s a mr. yuck sticker?”
apparently i should do more around the house. noted.
yesterday, while making dinner:
jess: “hey, did you read the article in my people mag where they’re talking about possible actresses for a sex & the city prequel?
jer: “no. i can’t believe you actually READ those articles. i thought you just looked at the pictures.”
today, out of nowhere:
jer: “what!? these are terrible choices! if it’s a prequel, they’re not supposed to be MORE fabulous!”
as we’re getting ready to go for our usual post-work, pre-dinner run, jer puts on his headphones, turns on dre’s the chronic and says, “i don’t think i’m gonna run today…i think i’ll pimp-walk.”
(setting: me, at work, wrapping up a long day of meetings with my danish boss & the rest of the marketing team, when i get a text from stefani.)
(long pause while i ponder what T9 might have interpreted to be mose. i come up with the obvious answer & text back.)
ste: (immediate reply) exactly!
ssica: god, i miss you. come to pdx now.
ste: ha. i wanted to say the cardigans at nordstrom make me miss you.
if you see two highly intoxicated girls running around downtown pdx on or around st. patrick’s day, you should buy us a drink & call us stessica. <3
(setting: our apt, early evening. jer’s in the laundry room; jess is in the living room going through mail.)
jess: (mumbles to herself) “oh, that’s nice. i got a gift card for famous footwear.”
jer: (calling from the laundry room) “gift card? from who?”
jess: “…famous footwear.”
jer: (walks into the living room) “and why would they send you a gift card?”
jess: “hmm…” (purses her lips & cocks her head to give jer a sassy look) “for being an excellent customer?”
jer: (rolls his eyes) “how many shoes do you have that i don’t know about? do you keep them at work? somehow i see your office looking like carrie’s closet…” (yes, he made a sex & the city reference. he’s a fabulous husband.)
every time i feel the sharp poke of a kitty nail (frequently), i’m reminded that i should clip the cats’ claws. except i HATE that job. they’re squirmy, i’m unsteady, someone’s going to lose a finger. so, i got home tonight…and no nails when mimi jumped up to say hello!
jess: “hey! did you cut their nails!?”
jess: (feeling mimi’s toes) “even the back ones?”
jer: (clearly proud of himself) “yep, even the back ones…even the THUMBY back ones…”
i burst into laughter, but was still secretly impressed. the thumby back ones are a bitch.
after the indulge event last night, i was in the mood for a bubble bath. jer was working late, it was a thursday night & i wasn’t quite ready for bed yet. i grabbed a glass of wine, the new vanity fair and ran a super-hot, super-bubbly bath. i had just gotten in & settled back to read when i saw a black spider come crawling across the floor. really? it was big enough that i was going to need to get a shoe to kill it, which meant getting out of the bath, grabbing a shoe from the bedroom & then returning, at which point there was an 89% chance the spider would be nowhere to be found.
i let out an annoyed sigh, when suddenly max came creeping into the bathroom, her nose on the floor, following the spider. she stretched out one paw & smacked the spider, not killing it, but wounding it so it couldn’t really run anymore. i watched her playfully bat at it for another two or three minutes, until she killed it. once it stopped moving, she lost interest & left the bathroom in pursuit of another adventure.
mimi, who had been precariously batting at bubbles from the edge of the tub, saw the dead spider in the middle of the floor after max left, promptly jumped down, ate the spider & licked the floor where it had been.
i have never seen them be more useful. not only did i not have to sacrifice a shoe to kill the spider, i didn’t have to clean up the smashed guts or even get out of the bath. turns out they’re more than just pretty faces…