My husband is a gamer.
I'm convinced that my husband's copy of Far Cry 3 is trying to break us up. I know that sounds crazy, but just hear me out. There is a conspiracy going on and I am going to get to the bottom of it.
I'm trying to talk to him all morning. I'm making plans and asking him what he thinks. He's agreeing with everything, which really, should have been my first clue. I asked the man if we could paint our bedroom for Goddess's sake. So, yeah, he's turned into a caveman video gamer and is answering me in grunts and nods.
Now, I'm a bit of a gamer myself, so I know how it is. Usually, I'd cut him some slack. And, for the most part, Tay is attentive even while he's playing, so I rarely have to get uppity. But this particular game is zombie breeding material and we were supposed to go to the store.
Anywho, I finally turn into a crazed dancing-in-front-of-his-screen lunatic. This does nothing but make him laugh, since even as I'm dancing, I'm careful to stay out of the way of important things. I storm off to get my shoes and my man turns his head for half a second to tell me I'm cute.
What does this tell my poor, sweet man? Even half a second is too much time to spare from Far Cry. This happens TWICE (I read him this blog post and he died when he stopped to grin at me). It's out to get me, I know it!
But knowing is half the battle. I'm on to you, Far Cry. I know where you live.