My husband just came out from his man cave, where he's been sorting through boxes that he couldn't deal with pre-wedding, and smeared old sill putty across my shoulder. Red, sparkly, silly putty with that memorable glue-ish smell. My shoulder smells like that now.
I like time we're able to spend together in our new apartment. We don't even have to be doing anything; its just nice to be together. I'll be in the living room working on choreography- I'm siked about teaching a number from the Newsies next week for a Theatre Intensive- and he'll be reading or sorting boxes in his man cave. But knowing that at any moment he could come out and attack me with silly putty is pretty darn nice.
That Newsies number? Check it out:
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