The Time I Crushed Brent's Spirit

Yesterday B and I were doing some spring cleaning. Basically, I was sick of looking at the mesh trucker hats we got for free after our surf lessons that B perched on top of the dresser.

“But they’re from Hawaii! We can’t get rid of them!” Was the argument I was expecting. Instead B was all “I don’t care about those hats, I thought you liked them there.” 

The hats were the first thing to go in the give-away pile. I’ll probably be passing them every time I’m at the Goodwill for the next few years, until Ashton makes a new season of Punk’d and brings the trucker hat back. 

B gets in a nostalgic mood as he’s going through and donating old stuff, so he’s rummaging around in the bedroom and I’m on to the normal Saturday house cleaning routine. I’m getting the vacuum out and B’s pretty pleased with himself with some redecorating he’s done in the meantime. 

B: Brig, I put something out in the bedroom. Let’s see how long it takes you to find it. 

Me: Mmmhmm. 

B: I mean, it shouldn’t take you long. I think you’ll really like it. 

Me: Mmmhmm. 

B: I don’t think you’re taking this seriously. I’m going to time you to see how long it takes you to notice. 

Me: What? Wait, I’m not even ready. I’m vacuuming. 

(My competitive nature flares up for the important things) 

I turn off the vacuum and do a once-over of the room. And this is what I see. 



“What is that?” I can’t even read what’s on the plaque, but I already know it’s something I don’t want hung in our bedroom. As you can tell by our barren walls, I’m too lazy to hang any Target paintings pretty particular about what gets hung up in there. I walk over to see what exactly he’s hung up. 


B is pretty happy with finding this old gem and giving it such a prominent place of wall real estate. I tell him to take it down immediately b/c it looks ridiculous. His crestfallen look makes me start laughing hysterically (sorry babe). Because I don’t like to break my guy’s spirit (not that often, at least) I tell B it can stay. It looks so preposterous it’s starting to grow on me (lies). He takes it down anyway and moves it to the guest room, where it looks much better, mainly b/c it’s out of my line of vision. 

Living with a boy is a real hoot sometimes.

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