He's A Guy. And That's Not Changing.

him: "I want to go see Iron Man."

me: "You've been saying that since Mother's Day."

him: "I'm want to go tonight--to the last showing."

me: "So go."

him: "You'll think I'm a loser."

me: "Because you're going alone? Aww, you're so cute. Call someone to go with you. I didn't know guys cared about stuff like that."

him: "No, that's not why. I don't care about that. You'll hate me because I'm your baby-helping slave. And if I go, I won't be here to help you."

me: [howling with laughter] "Did you just say baby-helping slave?"

him: "Yeah."

me: "DUDE! I don't think of you like that!"

him: [shrugs & chuckles but keeps watching the Laker game]

me: "I guess I do think of you as one of my girlfriends. I mean, you are my best friend. "

him: [in horrified disgust] "I am not one of your girlfriends. I AM A GUY."

Easy, Tarzan. You know I love it when you beat your chest. But we have five children already.