Disaster Adverted

My husband and I are going out dancing tonight cause well, it's Friday, our date night. I bought some new clothes, slightly on the challenging side to inspire my weight loss. With five pounds off they fit better than they did last week so I decided to try on a few outfits to determine which looked best.  In desperation, because the girl is not home, I decided to ask my husband which looked best. Three changes later he says, “I like the green one.” 

Being a girl I asked him why. “Well, green is my favorite color.” He sees immediately from my face that he gave the wrong answer. He sounds calm when he delivers the next sentence but I know him too well. His eyes show me that he realizes this is a mine field conversation. “The one you have on is beautiful. Why don't you wear that?” I bet you can figure out what comes next, right?

“Are you sure it doesn't make me look fat?” I slur the last word a bit and he leaps on the opportunity. 

“Sat?” he quips.

“No,” I reply, “Does it make me look, you know, the “f” word?

“Yes my dear it certainly does make you look fuc*able.” 

The man is a genius.