Checked by my mate

It's not great secret that wifezilla and I don't see eye to eye on design. We've "aggressively negotiated" on the subject many times over the years. Sadly, she lacks my refined sense of style. She has an unfortunate love affair with animal prints, you see.

I've waged a war against animal print in the house since the moment she moved in with me. Actually, the war probably dates back before then, back to when she started spending a significant amount of time at my place.

She frequently declares that when the children move out and she has a room just for her stuff, it will look (and I quote) "like a leopard fucking exploded." Although I haven't managed to keep the place jungle print free, I've done pretty damned well. No inside-out leopards anywhere.

So today, I had an eye exam. I'm generally a cash & carry kind of guy, but for once, I prepared ahead of time. Wifezilla takes care of paying all the bills, being the more fiscally responsible of us, so I hit her up for a blank check to take to the eye doc.

After my exam, I went up to the counter to settle up, unfolded the check to write it out, and got my first look at our joint checks... in all their giraffe-print glory.

I'm pretty sure the receptionist I had to hand that piece of art to thinks I'm gay now.