For our sixth anniversary, the Iron anniversary, I bought my wife an anvil. No, I’m not an idiot, she does metalwork on weekends. She used it to make me a sword. It’s beautiful and dangerous. When swinging it I look like a kid with a cardboard tube.
She keeps trying to get me to go to pretend medieval sword fighting events. I try to explain that my lack of coordination should disqualify me from such activities. She laughs and again offers to make me chain-mail armor. I again suggest she should make something that less involves me in mortal combat.
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Talk to me dude