Um, Yes. Single Bed in the Doghouse Please?

I can’t help it, but someone needs to call my wife out. On Sunday, Julie took the whole family over to Water Tower to return some shoes. She then got up in my grill saying I was lame for huffing and puffing throughout the trip. Where I’m from, you don’t go into the belly of the beast on Sunday to return shoes. You wait and try to find the best time that might not have the most traffic ever in the history of mankind. You know, like 9pm on a Sunday. Or maybe 7am on a Saturday. Seriously, Sunday was beautiful and everyone and their frickin’ Uncle were on Michigan Avenue. I guess I made the douche move of trying to find a spot on the street (I know, how cliche’), but I think it’s more cliche’ to spend $25 bucks on parking. The tensions were high and we were at each others throats and according to her “I’m no fun to be around”. Hey! I’m a ton of fun when there’s street parking or I am at home watching the Sox or I am sleeping.

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