>> There's this pair of Chloe Dark Chocolate Boots that I've been ogling recently, like a lecherous old man does a teenybopper in a short skirt. It's bad. I've become completely obsessed, really. In fact, sometimes, I just go to the satine boutique site and gaze lovingly into the boots' chocolatey goodness. I tried to introduce them to my boyfriend, in hopes that the feeling would catch on:
ME: "Drool." Well, I was salivating profusely.
HIM: Laughing nervously. "Look at you. They're so...expensive." I could just hear the cringing in his voice. And then he says it...reluctantly, but he does want to seem like a good boyfriend, after all. "Do you want me to buy them for you?"
ME: Yes yes yes YES! "No, don't be ridiculous." But they're so pirate-y, and sexy, and angelic. And I love them.
HIM: I heard that small sigh of relief! "I could, you know."
ME: "Yeah, and then we would have to starve when we go to Spain and England and France. All so I could have some chocolate yummy soft leather boots." I wouldn't mind...
HIM: Still trying to be the noble boyfriend... "You would be happy..." He knows me too well.
ME: "Not when our tummies are so grumbly that they begin arguing while we're trying to sleep next to each other." My tummy is exceptionally talented at being loud, and his at being grumpy.
HIM: "We have argumentative tummies?"
ME: "If they're grumbly, yes."
HIM: "Then we could eat the chocolate boots!"
HIM: "Well, they are chocolate..."
ME: "That would be a fucking expensive dinner."
HIM: "You mean dessert?" He just thinks he's sooo cheeky.
ME: "Dessert before dinner, always."
HIM: "Oh, sorry, I forgot."
ME: "Haven't people eaten leather before, though? I feel like they have. In times of desperation...like in war..."
HIM: "People say steak is tough like leather."
ME: "...I feel like soldiers ate their boots..."
Sometimes I wonder why he's still with me. I guess it's because he doesn't mind humoring me when I get delusional about $950 boots.