The guy doesn't have a lazy bone in his body. I, on the other hand, am made up of about 99% lazy. If I am not being lazy, it's all an act. It's fake.
Below are two re-occurring conversations that take place in our house.
Setting: Cloudy, cold, maybe even rainy Saturday Morning
Me: I don't want to do anything today. It's so gross out. What should we eat for lunch? (By lunch I mean whatever leftovers we have from dinner out the night before, Mac n' Cheese, tuna sandwiches or all of the above.)
Ty: I know, it's so nasty out... [in the same breath] I think I am going to take the pups on a walk.
Me: Really?! Why? (Why would you actually leave the house on a day like this?!?!?!)
Ty: Because they've been cooped up all week.
Me: But it's so gross out.
Ty: [As he looks outside] Not really, it's just cold and cloudy. It's not raining.
Me: Yet. It's not raining yet.
Out the door he goes... while I sit on the couch, the same exact place I've been since I woke up and meandered down the stairs to a bowl of cereal and coffee 2 hours ago. (By coffee I mean French Vanilla creamer with a splash of java.)
Setting: 7:30pm on a Monday night right after dinner.
Me: Guess what's on tonight!! (Read this in a very excited tone - like I am about to tell Ty that some car show is on that I know he's obsessed with.)
Ty: What!?!? (Got him!)
Me: Dancing with the Stars! (Obviously)
Ty: [Silence followed by a very long, yet very polite pause]
Me: Aren't you so excited?!
Ty: Not really. Are you watching it upstairs?
Me: Yes, why?
Ty: I am going to watch COPS and (wait for it...) go to the gym.
Me: It's practically 9pm (it's 7:35) - You are actually going to the gym this late!?
Ty: I gotta go. I gotta get sexy for you, Babe!
Upstairs I go, to the same exact place I will remain until it's time for bed.
Should I read into "I gotta get sexy for you, Babe"? -- as in, "Babe, get a clue. I am going to the gym. You should come too. I'm tired of watching you do 15 yoga positions every morning as you try to squeeze into your jeans."
I wasn't always this way. I used to try and impress Ty.
Blame it on my engagement ring. Blame it on the wedding. Blame it on my elastic waste juicy sweats that I live in (that Ty bought me). Blame it on my Kitchen Aid mixer that makes THE BEST cookie dough in the world (cookies Ty frequently asks for). Blame it on our new king bed. Blame it on the 42 inch TV we now have in our room (that Ty bought
While I am ridiculously lazy, Ty is always on the go. Always busy, always movin' and shakin'. As annoying as it is, it's nice to know I married a guy that won't let me be too lazy for too long. He lets me do my thing and be me (you know, lazy) but secretly knows that his movin' and shakin' makes me feel like a chub that can only tolerate the sight of myself in velour sweats for so long.
PS. I bought a new pair of juicy sweats this weekend with pockets. POCKETS PEOPLE!