Sharing is caring, right? For me, I say “yes.” For my husband, he says “Did you borrow/use/steal/misplace my (insert object here?)” In no particular order, here’s a list of the possessions I’ve commandeered from him this year alone.
YETI COFFEE CUP: At first I scoffed at his $29.99 to-go coffee mug that he swore kept his latte warm for two hours. Then I tried it. Now I own it.
RAZORS: Men’s razors get the job done. Women’s razors… are pink. And have names like “Flamingo” or “Tinkle” or “Completely Inefficient.” Full stop steal.
SOCKS: There are certain things I never pack enough of when we go on trips, the main one being cozy foot coverings. Though he has big ass feet, I’ve been known to steal a pair or two (or eight) now and again.
HOODIES: Is there anything cozier than curling up in the semi-outerwear of someone you love? It smells like my boo, it keeps me warm, and I can always count on finding it in a logical place (while mine is buried somewhere under a pile of the clothes I tried on but didn’t want to wear for the day).
THE GOOD PENS: My husband has a favorite pen. I have a penchant for grabbing whatever pen I can find (and promptly losing it). Imagine my surprise when I found a secret drawer in his desk with a treasure trove of Zebra F-301 fine tips with a note that said “Please don’t take.” I know there are a lot more detrimental items to find in a lover’s secret drawer but this stung all the same.
THE COMFORTER. My brain knows it’s a shared item but my body does not. At some point in the night, Marc is always left out in the cold, begging me for a little sliver of fabric. And of course, I provide! Like I said before, sharing IS caring…
…except when it comes to my leftover lobster linguine, face creams, or the last of the OATLY: don’t even think about it, bubs.