Some days, I just need a hug.

We all know those days.

Nothing goes right, your hair frizzes, the cat pukes on the carpet (and you step in it), you hit your funny bone climbing out of the car, you spend five minutes searching for your phone when it’s in your hand the entire time… (Yes. All of that has really happened to me.)

By the end of it all, I drag my weary body and soul through that door, slip into my comfiest pajamas, and wander aimlessly around the kitchen in search of chocolate. I then turn to my husband and pout. “I want a hug,” I say, trying to look as pathetic as humanly possible.

needahug1

Here’s the problem: Steve does not do comfort. He does humor. His new favorite thing to do is to hold me at arm’s length and do that thing Baymax does in Big Hero 6. He turns all cloying and sugary sweet and, in an overly dramatic gesture, pats me gently on the head.

 

Steve likes to do this little thing where he pats my head and says, "There. There." like Disney's Baymax

Yes, it’s funny. Yes, I freaking love Baymax and it’s adorable when he does it. No, I do not want my husband doing it when I’m seeking comfort and solace. I want a hug and I want it NAOW!

So, I usually take matters into my own hands.

When provoked, I can be quite an aggressive hugger.

Hey, I’m not above taking what I want. 😉

 

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