brat!

That's what I used to call my sister when we were younger. Every time she didn't do the dishes, didn't vacuum, didn't help around the house, I would spit the accusation at her: "You brat!"

Today, I realized that I am a brat. Wow. A HUGE brat sometimes. The main recipient of my petulence? My main man.

Poor Chris. We got into a little debate over President Obama's faux pas re: special olympics and bowling on the Tonight Show, and I basically bullied him into publicly agreeing with me on a site that we post articles to called friendfeed. (plug!) He, of course, immediately posted a comment conceding a point of mine. What a guy. lol.

To his credit though, he is no punching bag. He can hold his own with me and I like that a lot about us. Past relationships have not been as lively and never have I felt more challenged to think deeper and more critically. Thanks buddy!

And from now on, I'll try to keep my inner Veruca a little more controlled.


**edit: Whoa! How cute is Veruca's dress though? :)