I stood looking at DH. He had not shaved in several days. His hair was sticking out at all angles. He had been wearing the same clothes for three days, like he’d just returned from backpacking. He was a hot mess.

DW: Well, at least wash your hair. I mean, have some standards, man.

DH: I do have standards. Look who I married.

Dammit. I hate when he wins.


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