Marshall comes flying through the kitchen, skidding across our vintage laminate flooring on his white socks, almost proclaiming,
"We should have a new house rule!"-- stopping what I am doing with Mr. Ezra in my arms,
"Oh yea? What is that"- Kinda laughing cause I know this is going to be good.
Whenever Marshall expresses an idea with this much enthusiasm and a big toothy grin, I have to keep on my toes.
"As many times as you kiss Ezra, you HAVE to kiss me (just as much)"
-- Hands in his pj pockets, smiling from ear to ear, I am most likely reflecting the same mannerisms. I couldn't keep from giggling, because not only is this the cutest request ever,
but almost the most UN realistic.
Am I a bad wife?
I mean, I am totally up for the task, but I kiss Ezra with every breath he takes.(I am being for real)
He poops. I kiss him. He Drools. I kiss him.I kiss him.I kiss him. I smell his head, I kiss him. I adjust his t-shirt. I kiss him. I hear him pass gas, I kiss him. ... Now, If I was to do this with Marshall, I think my lips would fall right off. I would need a jumbo case of chapstick for all my smackin'!