So it's Friday night of a three day weekend and Husband is working. When I called him this afternoon and suggested we stay in and open a bottle of wine instead of going out to dinner, this is not really what I had envisioned. Since he is not paying any attention to me, I will use this free time to blog about one of the few ways in which I am vastly superior to him. Vastly.

This was on Post Secret this week. When he saw it, Husband said it's the first time he's seen a secret and really thought I might have sent it in.

It frequently happens that Husband says the dishwasher is full, and then I come along and put in four more plates. He always puts the plates in the wrong way, which allows fewer of them to fit. He takes issue with my black and white, right and wrong interpretation of dishwasher loading. He thinks it is a matter of personal preference, but he is wrong. I am right. My way all the plates fit and they all get clean. His way four plates sit in the sink unwashed for several days. There is no preference here, unless his gets some sick thrill from walking by a sink full of dirty dishes everyday.

Ooh, Letterman's on. And my evening just became complete.