Justin Pettigrew

Ever since the tragic loss of one Mr. Bubble butt's big toe nail he has (rightly so) been a bit self conscious. I have trouble with toes but toes without toenails are extraordinarily frightening. The following conversation transpired this morning:

Me: you know last night at the bridal shower we talked a lot about you. The girls asked me what you were doing and I told them eating Los Betos.  We wished you would have come. 

Justin: And watch chick flicks? Those are horrible. 

Me: whatever you love them. But you could have done pedicures too. 

Justin: like you would want my toe anywhere near you, you hate it. 

Me: That's not true. If you were to spontaneously combust and every piece of you were gone except your toe I would pick it up and put it in my pocket. 

Justin: you would pick it up with tongs and put it in a bag and put it in your pocket. 

Me: No I would use my hands. Then when I got home I would draw a smiley face on it and set it on my nightstand. 

There is something terribly wrong with that conversation... If justin spontaneously combusted excepting his big toe I should have immediately suspected a Peter Pettigrew type scenario. Obviously he would be performing a bit of complex magic to attempt to escape my grasp before he would ever just spontaneously combust no matter HOW much Los Betos he ate. Duh.