Andreas and I, Halloween 2009
When you get married, you assume that you’ll get to enjoy certain… benefits. Married-people benefits. Like for example, I thought Andreas and I’d finally coordinate Halloween costumes this year, now that we’re, you know, married and it can no longer be considered super geeky (right?). Well, apparently not. Because when I asked him what we should be for Halloween, out of literally NO WHERE, A says:
“I’m going to be a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“A…. a what? A grilled cheese sandwich?”
“Yeah.”
Yeeeeah. That’s my husband for you. And granted, I could have bent to his will and been… say, a glass of milk, but in my head I was on my own at that point. And not to use this an excuse in every single blog post, but with the wedding and the buying of the house and the moving in the house that was bought (by us) (oh, and the business trip), I didn’t have much time to throw together a costume.
I ended up pulling a black and white polka dotted dress from the back of my closet, putting on some zombie-like makeup, and calling myself a dead housewife. And somehow, I think our costumes kind of went together in a twisted kind of way.
So tell me, what’s scarier: a grilled cheese sandwich or the dead housewife who made it?
