Is That Michael Oher? And All the Other Punishments My Husband Must Endure

Let me begin by admitting that I am not the easiest person to live with. I am fairly obsessive when it comes to cleanliness (house and personal), extremely ornery with a love of practical jokes (an unnerving combination in itself), and annoyed to a boiling point by things such as chewing too loudly, sneezing, TV too loud, etc.

One Sunday afternoon I was feeling very playful while my husband and I were watching a football game on TV. We saw The Blind Side a few weeks ago and I decided that Michael Oher is the best NFL player of all time. Every time a black man made a tackle I asked if that person was Michael Oher. (The first time I was serious but then I was just trying to drive him crazy.) It was too much fun. Finally, I asked if Tom Brady was Michael Oher and I was responded to with "Seriously?... no, that is not Michael Oher! He doesn't even play for either of these teams!" HAHAHAHAHA! It takes a lot of persistence to annoy my husband (he teaches middle school).
Now every time he puts a football game on I ask him where Michael Oher is and he immediately changes the channel.

Then there was the time he peed with the door open. I walked in, turned off the light, shut the door, and the proceeded to pile baby toys in front of the door. The look on his face was priceless!

I once started eating carrots right next to him on the couch. After about three bites I got a dirty look. hehehehehe... fuel to the fire! I began crunching as loudly as possible. After about three minutes he took the remaining carrot from me and ate it himself. I guess it is a good way to get him to eat vegetables! I then turned my attention to the Capri Sun package I was drinking. I quickly finished the remaining juice and began slurping as loudly as I could.
SLURP...SLURP...SLURP...dirty look...SLURP...SLURP... "I am going to shove that up your &^% if you don't stop"... SLURP...
and now we are wrestling on the floor. I am howling with laughter and my husband is fiercely determined to find a place for the Capri Sun wrapper in my butt crack. I am not embarrassed to admit that he found a spot. I am also not embarrassed to admit that once I removed the wrapper from my crack I found another spot for it: my husband's face. I proceeded to rub his face with the wrapper until he was on his knees laughing.
Oh... good times!