|Who gave you pink eye??|
"Unclean! Uncleeeeean! Stop looking at me!"
There are a lot of great things about having a Mexican husband. The food comes to mind. And the excitement inherent in never quite knowing when I'm about to cross the fine, invisible line between World's Best Boyfriend and Estupido Puta.
One thing that's not so cool is the superstitious ritualism that takes the place of reason in matters such as science, medicine and network printing. The man can be bottomed in every conceivable position in bed, but merely stepping over him when he's on the floor, that's a violation? WTF?
JB actually believes I can give him my pink eye by looking at him. Seriously? Infectious germs can travel on beams of light? Since he also thinks he can get it by watching an animal poop, I guess so.