Me: Hey babe, watcha doin?
Husband: Watching the game with Bruno.
Me: You guys look cute all cuddled up together.
Husband: Yeah, we're in love. I wish I had his face towards me instead of his butt though - I feel like I'm in a serious danger zone.
Me: But Bruno loves tooting on you, don't deny him his birth right!
Husband: Ugh, sick! Do you smell that? You jinxed me - he let out a silent, but deadly! Oh, ugh, eesh, my eyes are burning. It's like sweet death, mixed with the bowels of hell or something.
Me: Lol - it can't be that bad ... ok it's bad. Bruno, sick! Did he eat something?
Husband: I gave him a little nibble of my chili.
Me: Are you serious? Chili? He's a Bulldog, he can't handle that!
Husband: It was just a nibble! He looked so sorrowful when I was eating.
Me: Well, then - I guess you've learned your lesson.
Husband: Ok, well - this is my cue to go. I need to get to bed anyway.
Me: Ok, honey good ni ... what's on your shirt?
Husband: What do you mean?
Me: Down at the bottom ... is that chocolate, or Coke or something?
Husband: What are you talking ... oh sick, what is that?
Me: OH MY GOSH. I bet that's a stain from Bruno's steamy fart!
Husband: No, it can't be!
Me: Yes it is! Smell it ...
Husband: Are you insane? You smell it!
Me: I'm not smelling it!
Husband: *starts chasing me* Smell it Anna! Tell me if it's a steamy fart stain, please!
Me: No! *gags* I'm not doing it! *gags* Get away from me Rob - I'm serious! I'm going in to fight or flight mode - STOP CHASING ME!!!!
Husband: SMELL IT!!
Me: Ok. Stop. Let's calm down. Chase me with crap and I will kick you in the jewels just out of reflex, okay? So just calm down and smell it ... it's probably something else ...
Husband: Fine ... UGH NO! It smells like his butt, but worse! OH, get this off of me!
Me: Chill out, it's a little stain. My leg has been doused in his diarrhea, remember? (click here for that horrendous story)
Husband: Two wrongs don't make a right.
Me: I'm not sure that applies here.
Husband: I'm taking a shower.
Me: It's a little stain on a shirt. I can't help, but feel like we've overreacted a little.
Husband: It's a risk I'm willing to take.
Me: Ok, again ...