Remember this post? Remember how you thought 246 times was a bit of an exaggeration? Remember how you rolled your eyes and thought: Will that girl just tell the damn truth?
Remember how the phone bill came the other day and on our $49.99/month plan we somehow (and I'll own that by we I actually mean not Mike even a little bit) managed to rack up $186 in charges?
That last part? I REMEMBER IT WELL.
I'm hiding the bill from Mike until he marries me and I can say to him: "Ha! Fooled you! You thought I was all together and responsible and in possession of a little SELF CONTROL. And were you EVER wrong." Then I'll wave my ring in his face and do a little you're-stuck-with-me dance. And then he'll lock me out of the bedroom and I'll drink champagne on the couch for a few hours until he finds some funny video on killsometime.com and he'll yell out to me (and I'll be a little tipsy by this point, of course): "I'm still mad at you but you gotta see this." After we've laughed for a while, he'll karate chop me a couple of times so I know he's not a pushover and then we'll put the whole thing behind us, just as mature, committed adults do. Oh, and we might yell at Molly some, just to get that last bit of frustration taken care of.
To answer the question forming in your head right now:
No. We don't see a relationship counselor. WHAT'S YOUR POINT?