Let me first say, I love my husband. Unconditionally. Check.
Sometimes, I have to draw a line in the prairie grass.
Especially when he is wont to abuse my good nature.
There's really nothing, okay -- a few things -- I don't support when it comes to my hard-working hubby. I mean, he's a Union iron worker that risks his life every day to support us. It's a no-brainer.
I'm putty in his hands.
But boiling animal traps in the house?
Come on! Let's get real.
I love you Shane, yet I'm having some issues with this newest idea.
The house already resembles a trapping supply warehouse.
Boxes, lures, smelly baits, products... strewn from one end of the living room to the kitchen.
What happened to my picturesque farmhouse of 2003? I was so proud. Freshly painted and void of clutter. Apparently I wasn't aware of what it meant to be a REAL farmwife.
Now I know.
But I did win this battle, if not the war. No traps will be boiled in the house. Check.
Small concessions make me happy.
What have you had to concede or throw out the window
in order to share your man's life and keep him happy?
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