Tonight, after I had a minor mommy tantrum about the sheer build-up of crap to do in my life:
Me: I feel like I never have any fun anymore, and when I do, I'm so worried about not enjoying it enough, I don't really have fun. All I do is work and work at home. Fun isn't as fun as it used to be.
DH: Um... I think that's called adulthood.
Me: Hello. You bought me hoodie footies for Valentine's day, and I think they are brilliant. Clearly I'm someone with a problem with adulthood. And clearly you know that and want to encourage that.
DH: Hmm. [returns to playing StarCraft II]
I take that last bit of his as concession to the truth of my statement. I think he might even agree about the not having any fun. I'm not sure. This might be another opportunity to point out to him that he very rarely works after 9pm and even less rarely does any of his work crawl into bed with us and kick him in the face.
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