I've been cohabitating with my better half for about two and a half years now and it's more or less been one of the best decisions I've ever made. I'm not here to rave about the boo putting the toilet seat down (but really he does, and it's awesome) but there are minuses to go with every plus when you decide to shack up with your significant other. But let's bust through the pluses real quick.
Boys always have beer. ALWAYS. When I was single, I would constantly come home after a bad night at work and need a drink but have an empty fridge. You can't really drown your sorrows in OJ. Boys are always beer ready. They somehow anticipate having a bad day, so they always have beer available.
Living with females provides you with broccoli, asparagus, meal replacement shakes, judgment, and more broccoli. Boys? They tell you you're beautiful AND give you french fries. I have a constant supply of chips, ice cream sandwiches, and macaroni. Sign me up. Sure it goes straight to the ass, but boys come loaded with compliments, so it's fine.
The bf is by no means washing dishes, but he's all over mowing the lawn and keeping the rose bushes in check. Which is great, because I don't want dirt all over my manicure. And I'm definitely not putting a TV stand together. Thanks, man.
I am a GIRL when it comes to television. Throw me a housewife, Kardashian, a medical drama, or a small town girl trying to make it big on NBC, and I'm HOOKED. Enter the boyfriend and I'm watching bearded men catching frogs, guys pawning civil war memorabilia, and dudes eating eight pound hamburgers and I LOVE it.
You know what momma really wants after a 10+ hour shift of hateful patients? WINE. Where are the boys who like a good Pinot Noir? I got that dude up there to take a sip of a red wine that was so fruity it doesn't even count as wine, once. ONCE. And I was just thankful he didn't spit it on my shoe. I don't always want a Bud Light, babe. Usually, but not always.
I'm a girl, and as much as I would love to live off of carbohydrate and cheese, there's no pretty way to do that. How do boys not understand that? Calories just fly right out of their ears while they set up camp and start paying rent in our thighs. The fuck? Salt and vinegar chips and Oreos can't hang out in the pantry and have the same effect on us, honey.
When David and I moved in together we agreed that I would do the inside 'girl' cleaning and he would do the out side 'boy' cleaning. And I appreciate him doing the heavy lifting, but two weeks after posting up in our current residence, he made friends with the neighbor boy and started him some cash to mow the lawn. Smart? Yes. Fair? No. Plus, although I'm blessed with an oddly neat boy to live with, boys will always be messy. But seriously, he puts the toilet seat down every time and it's the best.
I love a good Gas Monkey Garage, but when did we all agree that the boy gets the remote? I don't want to watch Grey's Anatomy on the laptop, or catch up with the Housewives at two o'clock in the morning. But he somehow ALWAYS wins when it comes to family TV time. I don't get it.
Living with a boy is the hardest decision I've ever made, but I've never though twice about that decision. I just wish I wore the pants.