The husband and I are listening to Tina Fey reading Bossypants. Tina [I can call her that, since we're besties] starts talking about why she's the worst:
1. She doesn't have a driver's license, so she doesn't drive wideways across Pennsylvania.
The husband looks over at me and says, "Oh, my god." I do not drive on the freeway, in any way.
2. She can't cook meat.
The husband cuts his eyes at me and says, "Oh, my fucking god." I burn meat on the grill every time I cook it.
3. She does not like dogs.
The husband looks at me and yells, "OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU ARE THE SAME PERSON."
I fell harder for him at that moment than when I first drunkenly saw him at dollar pitcher night.