I was in the kitchen working on the scads of Christmas goodies this weekend, and I turned to this.
Me-Do you get a scoop of peanut butter for yourself when you get peanut butter for the dogs?
Tom-A couple times a day for about 15 minutes, I come into the pantry and just eat stuff.
Tom-I don’t want to commit to anyone food and take it out of the pantry. I want a little bit of everything. I do know that I want everything with peanut butter on it.
He put down the chocolate covered pretzels he was eating and picked up the Cheezits and dipped them in peanut butter.
Then he picked up chipotle chedder pretzel bites.
Me-Those things are disgusting.
Tom-Not with peanut butter. (with a mouthful of them)
Me-So is this why the pantry is always a mess?
Tom-Yes. I like to see my options out.
I guess he can eat whatever (no matter how gross) because he is always hungry because of his workout routine. In his defense, he did leg press over 1000 lbs on Friday.
But I would like to have a clean pantry for more than a couple hours…
This weekend, Tom actually watched the Clemson football game with me. I blame the loss on his viewing.
Anyway, this is some commentary from my husband. Talk about loss…
Tom-When I die, I want the funeral to be like a football game. There will be beer and a half time. On one side there would be people who like me, and the other side people who hate me. There would be arguments of which side is right. There would be a ref that came in and make a call that hurts the side that is winning for no reason.”
Tom-Who do you think would be my sponsors?
Tom-Nah it would probably be Iams.
Tom-I would think Jeep, but we would need to time travel to have it be the 1999 Jeep not today’s Jeep.
Tom- And you can do the Clemson chant 1234 1234 T-O-M-I-S-D-E-A-D.
Me-(my jaw on the floor)
The thing with being married to an infantryman is that they have no problem talking and poking fun at their mortality.
So yes this conversation happened, and actually continued with talks about John Stamos and treasure maps at the funeral. Yes part of my duties as the widow is to get Uncle Jesse at Tom’s funeral.
Also I want to note that my husband must really love me because he is making his funeral plans around my love for football since he hates the sport.
Yes this is morbid, but I take the sweet moments where I can get them.