Weird dog love

Oh.  My.

What a weekend.  I still can't get over the weather: 70's AND sunny.  I learned my first summer in New York that sunny doesn't usually follow high temperatures as it does in California.  It took a little getting used to constant rain and clouds and gloom (as I search real estate listings in Arizona...).

I didn't work on Friday, and Corey only did until noon, so we spent the afternoon together.  First on the list, lunch.  To be directly followed by grocery shopping.  He needed trash bags, I needed 50 other things.  So, we drove downtown for lunch at Putnam Market, a delicious natural foods store where I can eat free range turkey until it comes out of my ears.

Why did we drive downtown when we live no more than three blocks away, you ask?

I myself attempted to find an answer to that question using my best nagging techniques as we circled the town twice, ending up less than 100 yards from the apartment, spending much more time finding the parking space than it would have taken to walk there, eat, and walk back, but to no avail.

As we passed Congress Park (the first time) I spotted a Saint Bernard.  I shrieked.  I love dogs, but I loooooove big dogs.

"Corey, LOOK!!  It's a Saint Bernard!"

"Oh yeah, it looks like so-and-so (I can't remember what name he said because I was shocked that he actually spent time to not only talk to a dog person but make the effort to remember its name, unlike me...)"

"Man, he's so hairy.  He's HOT."

".......like, sexy??"

Oh, Corey.

I laughed and laughed and snorted and laughed and almost forgot about how inefficiently we were using our time at that moment.

Now, he swears he was joking, but I swear he wasn't.  Given his past vocabulary whoopsies, I know one of us is correct....