We were married in a little gazebo by the shore. After the reception we spent two weeks on Fiji. We didn’t leave that bungalow on the water for three straight days. So being stuck in the shelter for months at a time with the love of my life when the zombie apocalypse happened didn’t seem like a bad deal.
Now? Toenail clippings. He leaves them all over the floor, under his chair, by the bed, everywhere. I even found one in my breakfast cereal the other morning. I won’t even get into the flatulence. I’m planning ways to kill him.