Teacup Conversations: Episode IV

So, Chris and I were totally going to be diligent citizens and file our taxes tonight before this big shutdown going on (I totally don't understand the point of that but whatever--this is the reason I'm not the president), when we discover that I never received my W2 from my old library job . . . that one I quit in July 2010 to pursue teaching.
So . . . I'm one job short for tax filing. Dandy. Just plumb fine and dandy.

Sarcasm? A bit.

So, I go out to browse the internet, trying to find the answers, when Chris comes out to join me with an encouraging peck on the cheek. Cute, right?

"Chris?"
"Hm?"
"One of my kids told me today I smell like lemons. That I always smell like lemons . . . where the crap does she get lemons? I mean, I wear orange or coconut lotion sometimes, but lemon??"
"Heehee, I married a lemon."
"Oh gee, thanks."
"No, it's a good thing. Lemons are bright and happy."
"Yes, and a lemon is also what you call a really crappy car someone tricked you into buying."
I don't think that Chris had any reason to laugh as hard as he did. No, it wasn't a justified guffaw in the least bit.

Somehow the conversation turned into a discussion on my hatred of not bugs, mind you, but cockroaches. Demons with six legs and vile antenna of utmost wicked nature. I had one fly at my head once, chased me through the house. They're evil incarnate. Gah. So, Chris decides to soothe me by making his fingertips scuttle across my arm then painting mentally crippling images of giant finger-thick antenna attached to man-eating roaches. I think I'm over my shower-stalking zombie fear, now. No, now I'll just be imagining the cockroach from Men in Black hiding outside my shower waiting for me to step out so it can devour me. It will all start with a toe nibbling . . .

Thank you, Chris.
Thank you SO much.