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I (sometimes) know the most

I don’t want to brag, but Hubby #1 is fairly brilliant, so it’s always a treat for me when I get an opportunity to be the purveyor of knowledge in our relationship. These moment are few and far between…like that shining day when I knew that the car doors that open away from each other in the opening of Entourage are called suicide doors. That’s right – Mr. Brilliant didn’t know…but I did. Of course when I do offer up some foreign nugget of knowledge, he generally takes to the internet to verify my brilliance rather than blindly accept it, but that’s okay – confirmed victory is almost sweeter. The down side is that when he stumbles upon something he doesn’t already know all about he over-researches and becomes kind of an expert. At this point, he can probably tell you all about the history of suicide door design and manufacturing, what car models they were offered on, and when they were discontinued. That’s okay though because while he may know MORE, I knew FIRST.

This week was another moment for my intellectual superiority to shine. It started when I received an email from my aesthetician. Along with the normal information about specials on dermabrasion facials and chemical peels, she included a reminder to make appointments for Valentine’s Day Vajazzling.

At almost six months pregnant with Baby #3, it’s been a while since I’ve given my nether region much thought. Literally, out of sight – out of mind. Later that night, as I brushed my teeth though, the tastefully vague illustration of a female form with a neatly red-rhinestoned crotch jogged my memory, and so for a brief moment I considered the bling. My focus was more on D-day (as in Delivery) than V-day, and I had a horrible flash of pushing so hard that a small crystal flew off, blinding my OB or injuring my newborn. It was with this ridiculous vision, that I walked back into our bedroom chuckling maturely to myself.

Obviously Hubby #1 was intrigued by whatever was amusing me. By now, I had moved on to the more practical problems of vajazzling, so I shared my confusion over how people deal with the growth related itch conflicting with the jewels. Much to my surprise, he had no clue what I was talking about. In fact, he thought vajazzling was something I was making up! I mean, seriously, could I even come up with that?!? Nonetheless, I quickly realized that this was one of those super special moments when I knew something he did not and I expertly explained what little I knew about vajazzling – hair comes off, rhinestones go on.

By the morning, Hubby #1 was a new authority on vajazzling…and penazzling (I’m sure you can guess what that is), as well as their trampier cousin, the twattoo. Oh well, my moment was over – lasting less time that an elaborate butterfly vajazzle (according to Hubby #1 one of the most popular designs available).

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