I was going to have twitter interview me but I am apparantely not that interesting. So when The Husband came home, I made him do it. I figure it’s going to be the highlight of my New Year’s festivities, so I may as well make it a real party and hit publish.
The Husband: What’s for dinner?
Aspiringmama: Dude, NOT what I was talking about when I asked you to ask me a question for my interview. Try again.
The Husband: Oh, ok. I suppose it’s supposed to be something about your book?
Aspiringmama: Maybe. Or my sparkling personality.
The Husband: So I can’t make this about me? (and seriously, what’s for dinner?)
Aspiringmama: Not about you? Oh right, I forget the rest of the world can’t see the sun spinning in orbit around you.
The Husband: Dinner, woman…
Aspiringmama: Fuck. You.
The Husband: well, you did put it on your resolution list…
The Husband (attempting to sound like a cheesy local TV newscaster): so what’s next on your list of things to do in the writing world?
Aspiringmama: (blank stare) Um? Well I was thinking that I should start getting serious about that non-fiction project that’s gonna suck up all my free time and leave you searching for a clean pair of undies for your next work shift.
The Husband: And that would be different from…?
Aspiringmama: You are such an asshole. Who let you on my blog?
The Husband: First answer: I know. It’s why you love me. Second answer: Dumbass. Next question: Aren’t I supposed to be interviewing you?
Aspiringmama: Right. *Sigh* Carry on.
The Husband: So how’s it feel to be married to a guy who looks like (insert your favorite actor here.)
The Husband: Seriously, give us a hint about the topic of your next non-fiction book.
Aspiringmama: If I did, I’d have to kill you. And that would mean no more weekend-pass fun on my blog.
The Husband: And then you’d go to jail and then you couldn’t blog anyway.
Aspiringmama: Don’t push me. Snookie got a book deal because she dresses like a hoochie and has a bump-it. A murder wrap would so make my career.
The Husband: Going for the street cred, huh?
Aspiringmama: Damn right. If I play nice, Juliette might even lend me her crossbow so I can be ready when the zombies come.
The Husband: Of course. Before that happens, you are gonna make me dinner, right?
Aspiringmama: (Googly eyed) I love you. Happy New Year, sweeter.
The Husband: Happy New Year, babe.