I’m moving out.
My car is broken, again. Of course my sweet husband is letting me drive his car. Awww… (like he had a choice) 😉
As I am doing my normal thing yesterday, I open the trunk to pack it full of groceries. My packing is stopped short when I see a suitcase bigger than a refridgerator crammed in the back. What is this?, I think to myself.
Not phased by too much anymore, I put the groceries in the front seat. I get out my phone and text my husband.
What’s in the trunk? A dead body?
Nope, he replies. I’m moving out.
Not phased by this either, I reply
So… no dead body?
I was hoping for a bit of excitement and frowned briefly upon his reply. 😦 So of course, if he is moving out, I want to know where.
Where you moving to?
The trunk… duhh.
Oh. Ok. That seems logical. That’s why your bags are in there. Mr. Sarcasm at work, again. I just roll my eyes. I then say,
Can I come?
Thats what you say, right? When your husband tells you he is moving out your reply is, “Can I come?”.
In case anyone is worried, he’s not moving out.