I think I corrected whatever it was that was causing the post to be unreadable - let me know if you still can't read it!
My husband and I have weird conversations. There is no topic too weird, too taboo, too out there. We pretty much talk about everything. Here is a glimpse into one of our convos....
I mentioned to Casey that I think our eating healthy has made my stomach weaker. I needed to eat fast food Tuesday night between meetings and it seriously made me feel ill.
That led to a discussion of favorite restaurants that (we think might) have healthy options. We both decided we need to go back to Kosta's - a great little hole in the wall greek place. Well Kostas is next to a bar called Spankee's: Your Neighborhood Bar with a Twist.
For a long time I thought it was a Gay Bar - and one time asked Mark if he and his friends ever go there. It turns out the Twist is much twistier than that. It's a swingers club! So now I can't think of Kostas without getting a little weirded out. This of course led to a discussion of swingers, which, by the way, is totally not a taboo topic since there was a prime time series about it! (I never watched it - did anyone?)
Me: I don't really think of myself as jealous - but swinging seems oogie to me! What good can come of it? If you're both happy with your sex life why throw something like that into it?
Casey: But if you're interested in swinging you obviously already know you're missing something in your own life.
Me: If all you know is your spouse than how the heck would you possibly know that something is missing?
Casey: Could you have truly been happy if you had never known about Vera? You would always know there was a better bag to put your initials on somewhere and keep looking and looking. Just think of swinging as some peoples desperate attempt to find Vera Bradley and if you already have Vera you don’t need to look!
Wow. Gotta love my husband! Not sure I buy the argument – but I applaud his attempt to bring the conversation back to something I understand.
I think I have a problem. My husband equated our sex life to a Vera Bradley tote.