It’s the little things

The thing about being married for a really long time is that standards become really low.

I used to dress up just for my husband. He used to pretend that he wasn’t a human fart factory.

Now if I put any clothes on at all I’m the sexiest thing alive. They don’t need to be cute or even flattering, as long as they are not sweatpants.

I like it better this way. Less work all the way around.

 

 

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