The other night my husband and I finally had “the talk”. No, not the typical talk about money, houses, and babies. It is the talk of all talks. One I believe all newlyweds in this day of age should be debating. What are we going to do when the Zombie Apocalypse happens?
My husband voiced the solution factually as though he had been pondering it for some time: We get a ton of guns and barricade ourselves in our home. It will be just the two of us, fighting against the Zombie hordes in a valiant attempt to survive the inevitable doomsday.
A somewhat sweet romantic thing for him to say, is it not? It will be only him and I until the end. To be honest, those are the kind of words that sweep a girl like me off my feet. I began to day dream about us nailing up boards and plywood over the doors and windows to keep out the infected. I am taking care of stocking our kitchen pantry and spare room with beans, bottled water, canned fruits, and MREs. He is ensuring that guns, ammunition, and maybe a katana or two are organized neatly in totes for easier accessibility. Then, each evening we sit, curled up in blankets by candle light, praying that we live to see the next morning… (It is always good to be prepared!)
But, of course, with my husband being a man, he eventually put his foot in his mouth after making me swoon.
If our little honeymoon suite would be overrun, and we would have to turn foot into the outside world running and screaming for our lives, he would not wish for anyone else in the world to be by his side. His reason: I run slower than him…
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