There's a point...

when you've been together so long, that you just say thing that you shouldn't. To strangers. Case-in-point:

Last night, Scott and I are sitting at a car dealership. You know, one of the most uncomfortable places on earth. Because, seriously, it all comes down to "Are you WORTHY enough to drive my car?" And, hell if I know how this happens, but one minute we're talking to the financing lady about payments, and the next, I hear this come out of Scott's mouth:

"Yeah, we were just laughing because we figured that this is the first August in four years that Stephanie hasn't been nursing."

Um, what?? Granted, we all know that interest rates and breastfeeding are apples to apples, but why tell the finace person? I just looked at him, and smiled. I have a plan, and it goes something like this:

Next time we go to an Italian restaurant and I order spaghetti, I'll just throw in, "I'd like marinara on that. And you know, that just reminds me, he wears his penis on the left side of his underwear! Can you believe?!"

You know, because marinara and penises go hand in hand.