Dirty Old Men Are Dirty. And I Like It.

The wife and I were out doing Tour of Homes. Which, for us, means critiquing houses that we can't afford. "That orange floor is obscene." "Why would you want a closet with a window in the front of the house?" "These doors don't even close!"

Whilst out assessing homes in a professional manner, we kept running into the same cute, portly old man. Tottering along ahead of his wife. After a while he asked if we were following him. Why yes, of course. When you find your dream man you follow him.

After finding him at yet another house he commented again on how we were following him. This was the conversation.

Wife: We are! We thought we'd lost you, we said, 'Where did he go?' But here you are!
Him: That's what she said last night.
Us: ........ Um. ......

We told his wife that he is sassy and she said, "You have no idea."

No, I think we do have an idea. We would adopt him if we could find him again.