Saturday Mornings. So it’s not cartoons, it’s Battlestar on the DVR, but it’s nice to lazy about with someone to warm your feet.
Dinner. Most every night, I put on my Betty Crocker apron and fix up a mess of vittles. And my darling, he licks his plate clean. It’s all very satisfying. But one night a few weeks ago, while I was on my way home from the airport after a long day of meetings in Austin, the Boy was – as the kids say – blowing up my phone. Where are you? Where are you now? Something had fallen apart at work, he was running late, and I would probably beat him home. Um, okay, hyper-communicator. When I pulled into the parking lot several minutes later, there he was in my rear view mirror. We got out of our cars in unison and when I saw him there, dressed in shorts – not work attire – and carrying a pizza, I grinned. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to cook. Long day? Meet awesome boyfriend.
Anytime Minutes. And I don’t mean for phone callin’. Wink, wink.
Sharing bills and dish duty and grocery shopping. Cheaper and faster, and involves a whole lot more public ass slappin’.
Hearing the words, Do you have any whites that need washing? C’mere you.
Picking up dog poo. For the love of god, it’s STILL WARM.
So. Many. Rules! Before moving in with the Dork Lord, I lived alone* for approximatelyone thousand, seven hundred and ninety days. That is a lot of days. Infact, it is plenty of days to get very comfortable with things being acertain way. It’s enough days to say, expect things to be a certain way. Like say, the shower. I expect it to be a mess of products. And the dishes? I expectthat they will stay in the sink until I am ready to address them. Soobviously, co-habitating with a
neat freakvery tidyindividual has been something of a growth experience.Fart Jokes. Only because I know they signify proximity to actual farting as the comfort level increases. It’s only a matter of time.
*Well, alone with His Excellency the Grand Duke of Bad Breath who, while good/obnoxious company, is not exactly a roommate.
P.S. Here’s Erin’s Single-ish take on the same list!
After my baby daddy and I shacked up, I had, well actually still have a severe issue with sharing money. Like, no more extreme shopping binges says he. I have my packages shipped to my office. When questioned, I get pissed but calm down and say, “Dude I’ve always had these Uggs.” “Dude, this has been hanging in my closet forever.”
When he says, “Our savings,” I’m like, “Uh what?”
Until he puts a ring on it, I will probably still feel this way, cha know.
Oh, Emma. You cracked me right up. Hilarious.
Are you my Boston Emma?
… and for all the people telling you that your relationship is influencing them and their single life negatively in some way, there is me- about 2 months ahead of you in a relationship… minus the moving in officially together. I really do experience everything you are (including public ass slappin’) and like my beloved quotations and poetry, it makes me feel like I’m not alone in my newfound happiness and the first relationship that may actually last.
I have friends in all different stages of relationships and singledom right now, but your posts are the closest to what is going on in my own life and I enjoy the comraderie.
D
What are you talking about? Battlestar is EXACTLY like cartoons.
i love this for you!!
Oh, Fish – don’t budge an inch on the farting issue. I absolutely, positively, without a doubt, will NOT stand for that – and it works! But you can’t budge, not even once. Should he mess up, I make him excuse himself and cause a big stink, excuse the pun, about it.
Effing hilarious. I can’t believe the poo is still warm. I don’t think I could do that. I mean, you’re dating the man, not his dog!
ha! Great list! And so true, especially about the dog poo. I love my dog, don’t get me wrong, but it’s still not the easiest thing in the world.
The website buxfer.com allows you to enter shared expenses with a roommate and keeps track of who owes who what. Pretty awesome and VERY helpful!
So sweet!
I’m so happy for you….once again!
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
In order to solve the dog problem, you could try something like this:
http://www.PetFoodDirect.com:80/store/product_detail.asp?pf%5Fid=20735803&dept%5Fid=449&brand%5Fid=203&Page=
Although it is a bit cumbersome to go on a walk with. It does work for the backyard….:-)
Loved your post!
I think if you take on all litter box duties then he should handle the dog poop. At least until you are pregnant, then he gets all the pet disposal duties.
The thing I hated the most was never being able to control my environment. When I craved silence, he was blasting the TV or the stereo and stomping around. When I wanted to have people over, he was having a “bathrobe” day. There’s a lot of compromise when it comes to cohabitating, and it helps if you’re on the same page at least some of the time.
What I loved…knowing that, even if we spent the evening apart, we’d always see each other at the end of the day. Having someone around who actually liked fixing the house and doing yardwork. Having someone to grocery shop with and cook with, who always believed that we had to have a “proper dinner”. No more meals of popcorn for me!
A dog? Ooh, now I want to know Sir Hal’s shacking up list
This really made me go awww…
At least the first part.
Things I like about being not-quite shacked up:
He only has one little drawer, I get all the rest, and the whole closet
He takes the smelly socks with him when he leaves
Not having to scoop his cat’s litter box
He still takes the garbage out to the curb for me
Things I might secretly be looking forward to:
Making those pleated corduroy pants “disappear in the laundry”
Not doubting whether there will be a sleepover
On the farting thing…totally with you. Mr. W INSISTS he never has, never will, EVER fart in front of any girlfriend, ever, and that goes double for me. The super cute (well, super cute for now…but we’ve only been living together for a short while) thing is he goes to the hall bathroom to…you know…do is thing. Well, all I can say is, the walls are really thin. He doesn’t know, and I don’t intend on telling him, lest he take it as open season for crossing into that level of comfort.
I loved Sunday mornings with my live-ins the best. Now it usually means chores. It’s hard to deal with chores every day for a dozen years. Believe me, I’ve learned!
LOVE this post! I’m still laughing at my computer screen!
I sooo love this post!!!Thanks Fish