Living with a boy

Robbie and I have been living together for a little more than half a year now. I've never lived with a boy before. I grew up with two older sisters, which means it was all girls, all the time. We didn't have video games or hockey sticks or posters of sporty things on the wall. We had caboodles, fake nails, posters of JTT, magazines and lots of Chicken Soup for the Soul books.

Some days I feel like I'm living in a war zone because I hear Call of Duty machine gunfire for a couple hours. And I'm sure some days Robbie feels like he's permanently living at Joann's craft store with all my sewing projects hanging out on the kitchen table... and floor.

I suppose it's a good thing that Robbie and I have different interests. I mean, how else are you supposed to live with someone in a 600 square foot apartment?

I admit, though, that I find myself cheering Robbie on when he can't complete a mission and occasionally Robbie wanders over to the craft room (aka the kitchen) to check out my quilting progress. When all's said and done, I really do find myself loving living with a boy. Or maybe I just love living with Robbie.

The ESPN Zone:

(Yes, I'll share my craft "room" pictures another time. I promise.)