Me: “Hey, I just heard that there is a whole… Hmmmm. What is the word that I want… Not congregation… But?

Him: “Cult?”

Me: “No. Not cult! A group of people. Actually they are all psychics and they all live together on this piece of land not far from here.”

Him: “Gypsies?”

Me: “No! They live in homes but they are all psychic and they live in the same community.”

Him: “So a community of tract homes like ours full of psychics?”

Me: “No. No…. Well, Okay. I think they live in trailers on the same land together. Hmmm… maybe they are gypsies. I don’t know. I just heard about them.”

Him: “Where’d you hear about them?”

Me: “My hair dresser. She went and said it was really cool. It is a group of psychics and they all live together and help each other develop their powers and I want…”

Him interrupting me, in the most natural and nonchalant way: “To join them?”

Me: “What?! No! I just want to go get my palm read.”

Me: “Wait! You thought I wanted to join them?! You thought I was going to leave and go live with gypsies?!”

Him: “Yes. I thought that was what you were leading up to.”

Me: “And you were okay with that?! Why were you so calm about that?”

Him: “Because I knew you’d come back.”

Have you ever been to a gypsy camp? Has your husband ever been okay with you running away and joining them?

*I am wearing an Anthropologie skirt from last year and a vintage vest. I could not find anything similar, but if I could afford it, I would buy this gypsy skirt and never look back. ; ) If only I could foresee if that happens…