So get this, my husband and I were having a nice little evening last night. We caught up on Fact or Faked (which has now made me question the moon landing. Nice try Neil Armstrong, nice try.) and then watched The Sing Off. My husband absolutely loves a cappella. He would be in a group if someone let him. Granted he’s never sang in public before or had voice lessons or sang in a choir or anything but I’m sure some group would let him in. Are you listening Straight No Chaser??

That show is so fun and it constantly gets songs stuck in your head. Well, Monday night’s show had a group singing Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance.” I had it stuck in my head and so I was singing and dancing. Doing a wonderful job if I do say so myself. I was mimicking them singing and dancing, or at least that’s what I thought I was doing. My husband stopped me after about two seconds.

Him: “What are you doing?”

Me: “What does it look like? Dancing of course.”

Him: “You look like a robotic dinosaur.”

Me: “Whatever! You just don’t know what I’m trying to mimic.”

Him: “Well it looks like you’re trying to mimic a robotic tyrannosaurus rex.”

Well if I’m trying to mimic a robotic tyrannosaurus rex then he must be one heck of a dancer. I still haven’t heard the end of it. That’s why I put laxatives in his dinner last night and he’s home in bed.

BOOM! ROASTED!

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