I happened to catch the last thirty minutes of Steele Magnolias a few nights ago and had forgotten just how much I’d enjoyed that movie.  When the dh walked into the bedroom he took one look at my tear-stained face and stopped dead in his tracts.

“What’s wrong?  Why have you been crying?”

I gestured to the TV.  “I’ve been watching Steel Magnolias.  That was such a good movie.”

Husband stares at me as though I have grown another head. “You realize it’s a movie.”

“And you realize that the baseball game you just watched is just a game, right?”

“That’s different.”

“Do you really think those ball players can hear you screaming at them?”

DH smiles.  “At least I don’t cry.”

“You’re right.”  *innocent look*  “Alabama hasn’t played Auburn yet, have they?”  

(To be fair he doesn’t really cry.  It’s more of an agonized moan of despair. )