Do not worry. I am not married to a jerk. I edit things to make them funnier. Or to make them what I think is funnier. The world might not agree. Sigh. I am so misunderstood. My genius will not be appreciated until after my death. But it is nice to have readers who defend me. Thank you.
SH: Why do you care that you're getting closer to 50?
Me: Because I'm getting old and ugly.
SH: So? You don't need to attract men any more. [I love you. I am getting older, too. I think you are hot.]
After an argument about the correct way to wash socks, with SH maintaining that one must match the pairs at every step of the process and my saying whatever, if I end up with an odd sock, I know its mate will turn up eventually.
SH: I sweat the details! You don't.
Me: I know.
SH: But you get a lot more done than I do.
SH: Should I use a washcloth to clean my incision?
Me: Why not?
SH: Because it will get dirty.
SH: But that's not good.
Me: Washcloths are made for man. Man is not made for washcloths.