The cost of two tickets to the blues legend, B.B. King: $140

The cost of accidentally flushing your car keys down the toilet: $0 and wounded pride.

The cost of calling a tow truck to pry open your car to fish out your wallet, phone and jacket: $48.00

The cost of having to listen to best friend, the Piano Man, laugh his ass off at your expense: $0 and wounded pride.

The cost of having to phone husband (long distance) and explain said dumbass move: $2.00

The cost of replacement keys and clicker: $121.00

The cost of sleeping on Piano Man’s couch because I was stranded: Never ending backpain.

The cost of waking up and prodding the Piano Man’s lazy ass out of bed to make me coffee: Totally worth being called a pain in his ass.

The cost of walking outside to find my car in Piano Man’s driveway with a new set of keys: Priceless

The cost of having a husband drive five hours and missing his sleep to fix my fuck-up and bring the Piano Man and I breakfast: Invaluable and worth every blowjob I could ever offer.

The cost of fixing the Piano Man’s kitchen faucet which has been broken for a year and a half: $0, five minutes of time and a genius husband.

That’s right, I accidentally flushed my keys down the toilet at the concert, suffered the indignities of having to admit said dumbass move, pay a tow truck driver to break into my own car, sleep on the Piano Man’s lumpy couch, only to wake up to find my problem solved, my beautiful husband at the door with coffee and bagels in hand and to top it all off, after driving all night to surprise me, he plays PLUMBER GOD and fixes the Piano Man’s sink.

A husband like this: Worth it’s weight in gold.

I must go now. Somebody has earned a special treat…

Special thanks CrankMama to for nominating this post for a ROFL award. Need a giggle? Check out the other winners over here or here.
I heart you all.

Updated: I just realized that Ali at Cheaper than Therapy nominated the same post for the same award. Damn, I must be sick to have overlooked something like that. My sincerest apologies for overlooking that. Go on over and spread some love. She’s part Canuck which means we’re soul sistahs.

I heart you too, Ali.