Oldyweds

Sure, Brock and I don't have kids or a mortgage yet, but I think that if 3.5 years as spouses and students doesn't qualify us for oldywed status, the three conversations we had this morning do.

***

Brock, as he comes bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen (I was reading through emails):

(Sarcastically): "What? Is that crackling bacon I hear?!"

Me, apathetically: "Nope."

***

Brock, while watching ESPN:

"Y'know, if I wasn't Mormon, I would go to Alabama . . . because they got some HOT cheerleaders."

"If you weren't Mormon? How about if you weren't married?!"

"Yeah well that's implied in my not being Mormon."

"Sure . . . "

"Oh, please honey! You have a picture of George Clooney on your laptop!"

"It's GEORGE CLOONEY."

"Yeah, and it's the ALABAMA CHEERLEADERS."

***

Brock, as he was walking out the door to go volunteer at the MTC. (I had previously made known my intention to spend a couple hours cleaning the house):

"Hey, honey? Do me a favor and save the laundry and dishes for me, will ya?"

"Okay."

A pause.

" . . . that response came too quickly . . . without laundry and dishes you pretty much have nothing to do, huh? Hmm. I should have started lower. Can I rescind my first offer?"

"Nope."

"Dang it. Fine, then c'mere and gimme a kiss before I go."

We kiss. But Brock has really nice lips (and he's doing the laundry and dishes) so I tack on another. Which he takes as a sign to tack on more himself. He starts pulling me in the direction of the bedroom.

Me, crumpling to the floor: "NOO!! I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!!!"

Brock: "Alright, alright, fine! You kind of smell anyway."