In what I can only explain as a bizarre self-motivation technique, my husband likes to ask me, "Are you ready?" I am sitting on the couch waiting for him and he is (usually) still naked.
In an unusual twist, this morning he was ready before me, and I was standing, semi-nude, in the closet trying to figure out what to wear, when he asked:
"Are you ready?"
"Does it look like I'm ready? What should I wear?"
"Just wear that."
"That would only work if I was a stripper."
"You're a stripper for Jesus! It's fine!"
I think he drastically misunderstands my current job.
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