Marry for funny, not money

I'm so glad that after 16 years of being together, my husband and I can still make each other laugh to the tears streaming down our faces point.  I was telling him about my nose hair issue last night (which of course he found HILARIOUS, like the time I ate an oyster that tasted like cow poop, but didn't realize it tasted like poop until after I swallowed it).

So this morning he told me that after our bedtime conversation he had crazy nose hair dreams, kind of like the teeth dreams where they are all crumbling in your mouth no matter what you do, but in this case he had feathers growing out of his nose.  He would pull them out and they would just keep growing and growing.

About fifteen minutes later I'm getting ready to leave the house and he walks into the living room with a feather sticking out of his nose.

As we've all witnessed in the past months, wealth can ebb and flow.  It's important to have someone there who can always make you laugh.  I love you man.

Orifice update

Ears: 

Tile guy came today. I think I'm in love. Contractor love that is. I'm going to invent projects all over my house that involve tile. He calls when he says he's going to call, comes when he says he's coming, is clean, fast and reasonable. If I know you in real life and you come for a visit, don't be shocked to see a mural of the Portland, Oregon skyline on my living room wall: All in tile.

Here's the condition of the ear laboratory now:

Not as horrifying as I imagined it in my dreams.  In my dreams there were more insects.  He did have to go up a couple rows higher than he should have because of the water seepage, but the support beams look OK.  Next orifice please.

Nose:

Horrified to discover that I went through a spin class, numerous conversations with other mommies, a parent/teacher conference and the kids dentist appointments with a rogue nose hair that was so long it was curling up and around the tip of my nose.  REWIND.

Mouth:

Can't stop putting things in it lately.  Must be getting close to that time.  Also needs to be washed out with soap after cursing the new "no-kinks" hose.  It took me 45 minutes and at least eight f-bombs to get that stupid hose in the wind-up-the-hose box.  Sorry witness-protection-program-neighbor-who-doesn't-talk-so-I-didn't-see-you-weeding-your-lawn-as-I-yelled-obscenities-at-my-hose.

Rest of the orifices:

Dandy.