The other day Marcus was suggesting that his purchasing a giant fixer-upper was equal to my surprise purchasing a puppy while he was on travel. Really, the puppy couldn’t have been that big of a surprise since I had been talking about getting one since the day we were married but, nonetheless, he was surprised and mildly not amused. It goes without saying that a puppy is significantly less expensive than restoring a Victorian mansion. Plus, a puppy can supposedly lower your blood pressure though I have my doubts when it comes to the particular breed that we own.
Anyway, this whole conversation started when I told him that Sligo will forever be the albatross around his neck as far as I’m concerned. I mean, I can write a blog post about hot cops and fully expect to get away with it at this point. In fact, the other night I left the husband, the dog, and both children at my in-laws house while I went home and slept until 7:00 in the morning and then napped off and on until about 11 while binge watching “Call the Midwife.” If that’s not luxury and well-deserved I don’t know what is.
Am I wrong to hold this against him for so long? Maybe. Am I wrong to use it to my advantage on occasion? As long as I don’t overdo it. Do I fully expect a Carl’s chocolate malt when requested? Yes.
Bringing Back Sligo 