Geoff is a wild man in the pool. Once we hit the water, his age decreases by like, 15 years, but he still has all of the strength of a 21 year old. I am extremely nervous to enter the pool with him. He sneaks up on me, hidden underneath floaties (which look like they are being pushed over by the wind), grabs me, picks me up, and throws me into the water, flings me over his shoulder, swims over, spits a mouth full of water on my face, then giggles and runs away, and a whole slough of other things that are obnoxiously annoying.
Anyway, today Geoff decided he was going to pretend he didn't have legs, and that I had to "carry him" around the pool (which was more like him clinging to my legs) so that he wouldn't "drown". According to Geoff, his legs were "cut off" in the "war". Also, when he used his legs to kick off the wall of the pool, he said that it was actually his "jet pack"
So I tell you all of this to set up a ridiculous story that will explain perfectly my relationship with my boyfriend.
Me: (as Geoff is clinging onto me in the pool) Ouch, Geoff, stop hugging me so tight, your chest hair is poking through my swimsuit on my stomach
Geoff: It's my secret weapon. I'm injecting you with poison with my chest hairs.
Me: You are?
Geoff: Yes...love poison
Me:...but I already love you
Geoff: Oh...well then I guess that won't be necessary.
You could say we're cute...or just seriously messed up.
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