Donuts And Anniversaries Go Together Like Ramalamadingdong Shadoobie Dowap Shibop

I ate a donut.

About five seconds later I had to unbutton my skinny jeans and my inner thighs were pointing and laughing at me.

They are such assholes.

I'm also giving a whole new meaning to the term 'muffin top.'

I would like to punch the co-worker that decided to bring in the donuts.

I would also like to punch my scale, and swimming suit, and cellulite.

Let's talk about something different.

Like how the other night I awoke to a something crashing and falling in my bedroom and I thought I was being kidnapped by aliens (which would be AWESOME by the way) only to find my husband.

Lost.

In the bedroom.

Looking for the bathroom.

     Josh, what the hell are you doing?

     I have to go potty

     Snap out of it, you idiot, how much did you have to drink tonight?

This isn't the first time he's been lost in his own house at 2:00 in the AM.

I once found him wandering around in what is now Alexa's room, formerly the office, because he had taken a right turn a little too early after exiting the bathroom where he had just proceeded to pee in the trash can rather than the toilet.

Hands off, ladies, he's all mine.

No wonder I decided to drown my sorrows in a donut.

Just kidding.

He's 64.99% perfect, and a great guy, and somebody I've been blissfully married to for seven years now.

That's like 57 in Hollywood years.

He puts up with my crazy and only rolls his eyes about it around 83% of the time.  Can't blame him, I'm usually giving myself the side-eye about half the things that come out of my mouth so that evens out to about 12% dumb and 100% AWESOME.

Happy Anniversary Josh

Thanks for not hating me.