Extra postage.

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Five days ago today, I asked my husband to mail out a package for me. 

It’ s just hard for me to get out these days.

Unless it’s for burritos riddled with guacamole.

Or milkshakes.

Or any food, really.

But, mundane tasks that don’t involve a drive through are just a bit too much for me to handle.  They require interaction with, like, people.  People who judge if you have a kool aid mustache or if you’re wearing a skirted maternity bathing suit and knock off Ugg boots.  People that, frankly, I just don’t have the time or hygiene skills to deal with at this time.

So, you would think knowing all this, and seeing that I barely shower or brush my hair, and that I walked around for 3 whole hours with a dum dum sucker (cream soda, best flavor ever!) stuck to the back of my sweatpants, that my husband would do me a solid and mail my package for me.

Um, no.  

Which seemed selfish to me, so I was all, what the hell, Andy,  I stood in line at the post office for an hour once to mail a gigantic model airplane for you.  And he was all, I’m busy and important, and you don’t even have a box to mail it in, so I was all, so what, they sell boxes at the post office.  Dumb ass.  But, he was like, it’s candy and a purple vibrator, and I was like, duh, and he was all, I’m not waiting in line at the post office to mail candy and a purple dildo, which made no sense and, clearly, he needed a quick lesson on the obvious differences between a vibrator and a dildo.

At which point, he stopped me, because we were in church, but whatever, we were sitting in the back, so the priest totally couldn’t see me mouthing the words dildo or giant veiny penis, and as for the old lady in front of us, she had one leg that was, like, super swollen and way bigger than the other normal old lady leg, so the cock talk was probably the highlight of her day. I mean, she didn’t have a wedding ring on, and anyone who has one gigantic leg, and one normal size leg on top of an unfortunate lady mustache, probably totally already owns a vibrator, anyways. 

Regardless, the package was time sensitive, and needed to be shipped, because it was a wedding gift, and he was all, what kind of person gets someone a vibrator and strawberry pop rocks as a wedding gift? And I was like, um, we do.

I mean, it was that or hand towels.

Who the fuck wants to open hand towels?