My cheeks have been burning since last night. No one has been looking at me so it’s not embarrassment. I am easily embarrassed. The Hub can’t buy anything without asking for discount; I can’t buy anything with the Hub. I never met an asking price I didn’t pay.
I look like Aunt Sally:*
It feels like flu skin, but I don’t have it anywhere else. Weird.
*That’s not a huge departure for me; I often look like Aunt Sally:
So does Spud…
…and Tory Boy:
The Hub doesn’t eat cake. Not enough to go round.
I am a little fat. I like food; what can I say? I have dull hair: mousey. I don’t wear much make-up and have no need of a dressing table. If I look like a bag lady, I chose my own clothes. If I look nice, the Hub picked them for me. Despite all this, I am a little vain. This photograph is from 2003. I had to go back that far to find one of me that I liked. But I don’t really care: my husband still thinks I’m beautiful and if he doesn’t, he loves me enough to lie about it. I’m lucky. I have two boys. They never lie to me. Still, you can't have everything.
The Laughing Housewife 
I have the funniest readers in the blogosphere (not necessarily ha ha…)