Me: Can you just grab the steak, seltzer and paper towels?
Husband: I think so.
Husband: OK, I got them and some poop corn.
Me: And one of those skinny french cukes!
Husband: A c*ck?
Husband: A French skinny c*ckcumber?
Me: I'm just going to pretend you are mature.
Husband: What? I thought that was damn you autocorrect.
Me: Uh huh.
Husband: I am very mature, yo.
Me: Super mature.
Husband: So, a skinny c*ckcumber then?
Is it just my husband, or is there a 12 year-old boy locked up in every guy out there?
Sorry about the *, I just didn't want to get a ton of pervy weirdos coming here.