Dude, I got a lot of the same shade when I moved to Texas.

We are about to move into a house and, after living my entire adult life in apartments, I’m like, “Shit, we’re just going to have, like, a few empty rooms, I guess?”

*Aunt.

We had lived together for 6 years by the time we got married, and we ended up registering at BB&B (after our families threatened to register for us). We don’t have a ton of money so we were trying to make crappy, broken Wal-Mart cookware work that we’d had since college (we graduated in ‘06). So, we registered for…

The in-laws asked us to class up our registry too. We refused. We actually had a lot of nice cookware on there and kitchen gadgets, but some people really just want to give you china. Some bought us china we didn’t even register for and straight into my in-laws’ basement it went. Except for the yellow china tea set…

I love it too. It has a nice zouk beat, and I dance zouk. Yes, there are FAR FAR better songs, but it’s fun. I’d say it’s a guilty pleasure, but I feel absolutely no guilt.

You are correct:

15-year-old me wanted to run away with him.

My parents like him. Most of my relatives back home do, too.

There is shit that my family and friends have said in the past six months that I haven’t heard in 32 years of closed doors. It’s terrifying.

So I am with you for a lot of this because I KNOW this describes how my husband and I both think. And we have both worked on understanding each others’ through processes, which are equally valid. But we need to talk about 3a. I’ve never asked him to clean my closet. I clean my spaces, he cleans his office.

Baskets have literally saved my relationship.

Right. It just literally didn’t cross their minds.

Mine “cleaned the bedroom” once while I was gone. He threw the comforter the wrong way on the bed and took everything on the floor and lined it up against the wall. Not in the hamper. Not in the washing machine. Not in a drawer. Lined up against the wall.

Mine is “one of the good ones,” too. In so so many ways. Even so, I’ll be doing deep-cleanings (walking back and forth in front of him with sponges and spray bottles and bleach) and he does. not. notice.

I was at a wedding recently where the 3-year-old ring-bearer was with his dad (a groomsman) and the other groomspeople all day. The kid’s mom was a bridesmaid and was with the bride.

For. Real. My husband is a wonderful feminist, total sweetheart, incredible person. But when it comes to household (and detail-oriented emotional labor), he is SUCH a butt!

This is the only review I need. Thank you.

And when Trump poutingly says, “Lots of things,” and Merkel smiles and says graciously, “It was very good, thank you ... a wonderful opportunity...”

It’s the best feeling in the world to have an animal to protect you.