I've told the following story a zillion times:
When hubby and I were first married, I wanted my first dinner to be memorable. So I decided to make beer-battered coconut shrimp with rice. It was bad.

Come on...that's funny...but that's a horrible thing to say about your wife's first meal. It still makes me laugh (just as it did that night).
A few nights ago, we were watching The Amazing Race. The contestants had to go down a huge water slide in Dubai and were all wearing swimsuits. There was one contestant that looked cute in her suit, but wasn't super thin. I commented "I wonder how much weight I would need to lose to look like her in a swimsuit."

Once again, the statement is true...but woe is the man that says that to his wife. So now I have to torture him by bringing it up every half hour. I drop little comments about how he said I was fat (he didn't) or how he hates how I look in a swimsuit (he didn't). Why do I do this? I don't know. I just know that it is fun for me; perhaps it is my way of paying him back for the lovely comment. I'm not offended. I wasn't mad when he said it. If anything, I was gleeful when he said it because I knew I'd have some torture material to work with for a week or two.
Maybe my desire to torture hubby is a sickness, but it isn't one that I'm looking for a cure to anytime soon. Can't wait for some new material!
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