I'm sitting in my library/computer room, looking at all the books that I've consumed over the years.
I have five big book shelves completely crammed full, some what in alphabetical order. I probably need three more bookcases to get completely organized, but it's okay. Because I love this room. With one exception.
My husband has killed some animals over the last several years and for some reason, he thinks it necessary to stick the dead animal heads on the walls. I've refused to allow him to place them in my living room where their dead, glassy eyes can watch me as I watch television. And the dining room is out. Eww.
So here I sit, with several "trophy" animals staring down at me from their perch on my walls.
We've had long, loud and drawn out debates on the ethical side of hunting. Even though I always win these arguments with my wit and intelligence, it has not deterred him in the slightest from peering through a scope and murdering these poor defenseless animals.
Don't get me wrong. I love me a great big greasy cheeseburger.......or a t-bone steak, but I prefer that the meat come all nice and prepackaged.
And I also wish I didn't have to have these corpses on my walls ruining my most favoritest room.
This goes in the con column of marrying and sharing your life with someone.
But, like I've said before, he better be glad he's so handsome. Or I'm not sure if it would be worth it.
And he cracks me up...(note the porn stash)