“Where’s my smooch?” I ask my husband as he gets ready to walk out the door to work.
He quickly turns back around and ever so lightly, LIGHTLY pecks my lips with his.
“You’re serious. Was that even a kiss? I don’t even think I felt that.” I tell him half joking.
“Sorry,” he says, “But I’m still cheesed over $750.” He responds.
“You weren’t cheesed enough to drain the battery from my phone playing candy crush. Or the night before, or the night before that.”
“Babe. Don’t you know? All’s fair in love and candy crush.”
“Someone’s calling you.” We’re sitting at Taco Bell having something to eat after the ever taxing process of buying a family vehicle. By the way, have you met Sylvia?
“That’s Heather, “ I tell him.
“She won’t send me any lives. You can call her back later.” He closes the screen and goes back to his candy crush game.
Two weeks ago…
“I’m out of lives. What?! I have to wait 20 minutes for another life, are you kidding me? You didn’t tell me I had to wait so long to get a new life.”
“Oh yeah. That happens. I’ll ask some friends who I know play the game.” I reach for my phone.
“No I will ask. Just tell me who,” he holds his grip tight on my phone, “How about Shannan? Emily? Heather? I’ll just select everyone.”
“NO! Don’t do that! Not everyone plays the game!” Again, I reach for the phone.
“Well then why would it suggest all these people for me to ask?”
“Cause it’s stupid. Please give me my phone.”
“Oh look! Emily sent you a life. Never mind. I’m good.” He bats away my hand.
This is what Candy crush has turned my husband into. My non-social networking, non-Facebook, uber private, living-below-the-grid husband has created an account for the sole purpose of playing the Candy Crush. Except his phone won’t let him play through the app (it’s not compatible it says. Nor will it let him download the Facebook app for Android).
So he borrows my phone on his nights off. He brings it back when he’s out of lives or he’s drained the battery. In the beginning, it was cute, funny even. In a “Oh look at my husband! He’s joining the 21st century and playing games on Facebook!” kind of way.
Now? Super annoying. Especially when we’re in bed and I’m falling asleep to the sounds of Tasty.
And Delicious followed by my husband’s declarations of being “a bad man.”
Android, get your sh!t together so my husband can play on his own phone and I can have mine back. Our marriage depends on it.
Please and thank you.