The husband: Is the trashcan in your bathroom full?
Me [as I'm flossing my teeth]: mmfffmm Hell, yeah.
The husband comes in and gets the trash can to take out with the rest of the garbage. I finish flossing and am standing there waiting for him with a gross piece of floss in my hand. He returns, laughing, and I toss my floss in the can, like a princess.
The husband: Did you have like 20 trash bags in the bottom of the trash can and just end up dumping your garbage on top of them instead of opening one up to collect the trash?
Me: . . . . Maybe.
We both start cracking up.
The husband: That is so you.
Me: I know. It really is, isn't it?
The husband: I know your exact thought process, too. "I'm going to put all these bags here so I'll be all set with trash bags for the next 15 weeks!" and then you forgot to open up a bag and threw in a used tissue or a piece of dental floss on top of the bags and thought, "Well, fuck it. That's ruined."
Me, doubled over in laughter: It was dental floss.
The husband: You're ridiculous.
Me: I know. I know.