No respect...

This is what my husband mumbles to me as he is sitting in his chair. Mind you, he was just chasing me through the house like a child, trying to tickle me and goose me. What does it mean to goose someone? Here's your answer. Now, knowing what a goose is, you know I was running from him screaming like a burn victim. Picture Titan our K9 chasing behind him barking, and you'll have this circus of an evening mentally pictured in its entirety. What possessed him, I'll never know.

He tried to tickle me, and I fled the bedroom; I ran into the laundry room, and decided to just put the laundry away, because I figured we were done. When I was in the laundry room, he decided to come in with his BB gun and point it at my bare feet, laughing hysterically saying 'It doesn't hurt, it's just BB's!'. This led to me scrambling on top of the washer, and screaming like a lunatic. I hopped down, got brave, and chased him into the office. I shoved him into a cabinet, and knocked 2 glass candle holders down, which exploded onto the wood floors like a bomb, cutting his feet up. Great. Now he's whining like a big baby about his feet being cut, and I'm sweeping up a giant pile of glass shards while Titan waits in the wings wanting to play too. He comes back into the office after cleaning up his wounds, and picks up the BB gun again. Seriously babe? This was the next conversation/30 seconds of my life:

AC: 'Look, it doesn't hurt, it's just a BB. I'll show you
AC then points the rifle towards his thigh, and pulls the trigger.
AC: 'Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!!'
I then give AC the stupidest pity face I can muster.
KC: 'It's doesn't hurt huh?'
AC: 'Okay it does hurt, a lot. Wow, look at that welt.'
AC then took the walk of shame out of the office.
KC: 'You're an idiot.'

Now that all that is done, I go back into the bedroom to put the clean sheets on the bed. Here he comes, trying to tickle me and pin me on the bed. Joke's on him, I got my leg out and flailed backwards. This caused him to go over backwards off the bed, fall down the side and get his head smashed between the night stand and bed frame. My poor foot got pinned between his body and the bed rail on the way down, and truly bent in such a way that I am shocked it did not snap like a twig. The top of it, which has my tattoo on it, got scraped badly though, and that hurts a lot too. What is the matter with us?

He's feisty tonight. He worked last night, and didn't sleep today; So he's probably just deliriously tired. Either way, we are too old to be acting like this. Just sayin'.