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Zebra Time: A Schmoop Story

We're getting marriaged in a few hours.

FluterDude is Catholic and with that come a lot of traditions. One of them, apparently, is to not see the bride before the wedding (even though we live together, and he's seen me all sorts of gross). Since we cohabitate, he grabbed a hotel for the night before; I opted to stay home to cuddle with FluterDog and, if he was in the mood, Sh*tty K*tty.

In his rush to pack his toiletries, FluterDude stole the allergy pills we both share. (It is allergy season in [location redacted] and both us are sniffing up a storm. I called to say good night and whined a little about sniffles and mucus.

This morning, as I shook the sleep off and listened to the second iteration of the alarm (ok, it was the fourth), I heard the door open, and the sound of a pill bottle being placed on the cabinet outside our bedroom. "Allergy pills are here," he calls. "And I'll take the FluterDog out so you can get ready!" (I love my dog, but morning poop walks are my least favorite thing ever.) He was gone without seeing me and returned FluterDog without stepping inside the door.

Ladies and gentlemen, we're getting marriaged this afternoon. I think we found a keeper.


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