Portly Chocolate Pie

When Justin and I argue, it usually goes something like this:
Him: "Blah,blah,yadda,yadda."
Me: "Whatever. You're an idiot."
Him:"Well, you blahblahblahblah."
Me:"You're crazy. You don't know what the crap you're talking about."

And this could go on forever. Neither of us meaning any harm, just arguing for the sake of it.I can count on one hand how many real fights Justin and I have ever had. I can probably tell you about each and every one of them and who won. Over the span of seven years, that's not too bad. But there are 2 arguments that have yet to be resolved.

The first one is a recurring one. And it flares up almost any time chocolate pie is involved. You see, Justin loves chocolate pie. And he never learned how to share. Not even one little bite. The first time this argument happened, we were only dating. It was one of the first times I had ever been around his parents and we were at lunch. He ordered a slice of pie. I asked him for a bite. He. Wouldn't. Give. Me. One.

His theory is that I could just order my own slice. I only wanted a bite. It would be wasteful for me to order a whole piece of pie, if I didn't want the whole thing. He claims he would have finished both of them. Whatever. My mom now cooks him his very own chocolate pie, almost every time we visit. Spoiled much?

The other argument, that neither will concede, happened recently. I needed a new work shirt. I usually get a cheap men's white button up, size small. Wal-Mart was out, so I decided to go to the boys section. Later that night:

"I got a new work shirt. They didn't have any in the men's section, so I got it in the little boys' section."

"Oh, did you have to get portly?"

That's something you just don't say to a woman. No matter what size they may be. His explanation for his choice of words was that a portly boy was the same size as a small adult.

No. Just. No. Please add portly, husky, and juicy to your list of forbidden words, when talking to or about me. Thanks.

I tried to share both sides of the arguments with you. What do you think? Am I right? yes Or is he? not a chance Please be honest in your comments. I promise I won't hold it against you, if you think I'm wrong. I'm not, by the way

So, come on. Help us out. We really need to know who the bigger idiot is.

Game On

When I first started this blog, I thought I would have people reading it from all over in a matter of days. And they would love it. And comment. Religiously.

Not so much.

I do have some regular readers. Most that I know and they started reading it because I sent them a link- and I asked them all the time if they read it. No pressure, though.

And when I discovered how cool stat counter is, I was hooked. I checked my stats constantly. I wanted to know who was reading, how long they read, or if my friends and family were lying to me about reading it at all.

I worried if my blog was interesting enough. I wondered if it would draw a laugh from a stranger, or even ellicit an emotional response from anyone. And then I stopped.

I am doing this blog because I enjoy it. I like writing about my family and our experiences and my thoughts on random issues. I can only hope others enjoy it and continue to read it.

So I made the conscious decision to stop worrying about stats and numbers. The day I did this, Justin decided to tell me that he wants to start his own blog. And I was happy for him and even agreed to help him get it set up. Until he had the nerve to ask me:

"You won't get mad when I get more readers than you, will you?"

So. . . if anyone has any ideas on how I can get more readers, please feel free to share. Should I try to join a blogging community? He. Can. Not. Win.