So my husband has a way with words, and being a wordsmith/lover of words, I appreciate this quality about him very much. But his “way with words” isn’t want you think. He calls the actor Jason Statham – Jason “Strat-ham” or “Stratosphere” or some other hilarious variation. He says, “It’s raining its tits off” – what does that even mean?? I have no idea but I love it.
The other day he was in the yard out back, doing a little weed-whacking (reads: playing with his new toy). I’m inside – writing, cleaning, organizing, trying to keep Sydney (our very curious Belgian Malinois) out of trouble (which is a full time job).
Lo, and behold – out my office window I see my husband’s bare ass walking down the rock pathway to jump in our saltwater pool (yes, we have a small pool) (yes, it’s glorious).
When I (laughingly) asked him what he was doing exactly, he replied, “Letting my balls hang out.” Nailed it.
Maybe walking around your home naked isn’t a big deal. I know for us, as former sailors, and more specifically charter yacht crew who had guests in our home for 30+ weeks out of the year, letting your ANYTHING hang out is a serious treat. It’s the concept of privacy that we sailors have craved over the years, and – oh boy – my husband is enjoying himself thoroughly.
You do you, Captain. Air it all out.