I found two cupcakes on top of my refrigerator.
But I didn't know if my husband had hid them up there for us or if he was saving them for the kids. So I was going to text him.
"I can haz cupcake?"
But I knew he wouldn't get it and I'd get a big WTF back.
Why wouldn't he get it? Because he lives under a freaking rock.
I've always known this about him. I put up with it. But sometimes it's flabbergasting.
Just the other day I was telling him a creepy story I heard about Tom Cruise buying an engagement ring for Katie Holmes after their first date.
And my husband responded, "So, what? Tom Cruise is married now?"
What the hell? Seriously? Seriously? How could he not know about TomKat? Katie even lived in our freaking town while filming Mad Money and took little Suri to our Target, much to the delight of the local entertainment media.
My husband says that he has no reason to pay attention to anything not related to war or hockey. But how could you have ears and eyes and not know about Tom Cruise.
I wonder if he's warm and cozy living under his rock. Or is he cold and alone being the only damn person in the world to be buried that deep.