Back to this evening. The details are blurry. But I am sure that at one point Chup and I were standing up dancing side-by-side. We were trying to show the Party People what the ninety year old lady
Here is the deal. CHUP TOTALLY DID THE SPLITS…ON DEMAND. My six-foot-five-inched-tall-two-hundred-fifty-plus-a-bag (or four bags)-of-rice-husband-of-almost-five-years did the freaking splits as a parlor trick. Darn well ripped his camouflage cargos in the process.
It happened so fast. Split seconds (pardon the pun). Did I know that Chup could do the splits? Um no. I was so shocked that I ran around the room flailing my arms in the air and shouting a mantra I mustn't repeat on a family-friendly blog sorta. Does this change things? Um, yes.
How am I?
I am in shock.
Um, and twitching a little bit. bit. bit. bit. (STOP IT!) bit.
But we’re going to be jjjjjjjust ffffffinnnnnne.
I might not have the presence of mind to blog for awhile.
You understand, right? right? (HELP ME!) right? It is normal for husbands to do insane things out of the clear blue happily married sky. sky.sky.sky.sky.sky.sky??????? ??? ???