Well, blog readers...its true. I married Superman. I was intentionally looking more for the batman type with all his rubber pants wearing-sidekick in his scivies goodness but nope. Superman flew into the picture......with his bright red scivies and tights!
I dont know where Id be if "Superman" wasnt here to tend to my every whim. Its true, I think I will go home after this horribly long night at work and make him rub my feet with some sort of his Supermanish powers. Powers are so much more awesome than a crappy utility belt. Take that dumb Batman....what you got in your utility belt for that? A pedegg? hmmmm that could work. But then again......
Ok, so back to the point. I really did marry Superman and if you dont believe me ask him yourself. He has now even started referring to himself as Superman and acts like it too. I have asked on numerous an occasion for him to wear the tights but apparently even Superman is too manly to wear his red tights with blue undies. Geez, all I wanna do is see those glorious man thighs in some tights! When?! When?! When will I get the tights?!
Not even the dreaded kryptonite(raisins in cookies and almost anywhere else) could keep Superman down! Not even his malfunctioning gall bladder! This is how I know my husband had been mutated and exposed to something radioactive(probly at work with the stinky people and their radioactivity) because 2 days after having an organ removed he was rummaging around under the house to turn the water main off. I know, hes a nut not an alien. There has to be another explanation for his Supermanyness. He was not born on Krypton 'cuz our children are non-supers....and neither am I.
well, the investigation will go on. I will find out who mutated my husband into being Superman........even if he wont put the tights on.
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