I think there comes a time in a relationship where intimacy is taken too far.  I think that while couples should be encouraged to share everything and have no secrets between them, there is still THAT.  THAT which should not be shared in the bedroom, much less anywhere else in the house, or outside.

Oh get your mind out of the gutter.  I’m talking about GERMS.

I swear.  People who go into their offices hacking, wheezing, sniffling, snorting, coughing, with matted-red-eyes and runny noses should be shot in the spot.  No, no!  Drawn and quartered!  Noooo! Boiled in oil!

Not only will this put them out of their misery, it keeps them from sharing their germs with everyone else at the office.  It also keeps those germs in a centralized location rather than spreading throughout the office, and brought home to unsuspecting family members.

The ONLY reason Alpha Hubby was so generous in sharing this intimacy with me is that he lives here.  He brought it home to me, and I didn’t even get to enjoy anything to acquire this gift.  He didn’t even KISS me or hold me or hug me or squeeze me.  I’ve been GYPPED. GYPPED, do you hear me???

Do you not think that if someone is going to share something THIS intimate, one should at least get some form of enjoyment out of it first???  But no.  His thought was that if he didn’t kiss me, he’d keep from sharing this intimacy with me. 

Here I am, flushed with… not not that.  I’m flushed with fever and have a wonky stomach and a runny nose and matted eyes.  I sneeze. I cough.  I have a headache.  I don’t feel goooood – waaaaaaa.  Whine.  Sniffle.

And I didn’t even get kissed first.

Song: You Only Hurt The One You Love