Everything Funny is Horrible

My husband seems to firmly believe there's no possible way to look for anything without making a mess. It doesn't matter if it's a huge pile of laundry that I've asked him to he pull his own clothes out of because I don't see why he can't just do it himself when he doesn't even use a dresser; or if he's looking through a small pile of our hats to find . . . whatever it is we were looking for. Rarer still is the event where I can get him to clean any portion of this "necessary" mess, but when he does it's as if everything he just dug through was put back into this horrendously chaotic form of order that some might confuse for the doings of a tropical storm.

For those of you who are fans of my Facebook fan page, The Fishfacetastic Adventures of Marinara -
1) thank you
2) tell your friends
3) you've likely already learned that every day for me holds some form of adventure

Not all adventures are the sort you really feel like having - like my first experience with attempting to toilet dunking a soiled cloth diaper; but there are still a lot of them out there waiting to take you by surprise that don't suck or leave you holding a wet nappie that only moments before was covered in crap. My marriage, much like my husband; is full of surprises hiding around corners waiting to either scare the daylights out of me or . . . I have no idea how to end that sentence.

Seriously, sometimes my husband is standing around a corner waiting to freak me out. Just. Like. Life.

Happy anniversary sweetheart.