Men think they’re better at hiding things (like that Tupperware that’s been sitting in their desk for 3 months growing mold) but they’re wrong — they make jokes about how bad we are at keeping secrets, but we’ve been keeping a lot from them:
How often we check his Facebook.
And Twitter. And Instagram. And anything else we can get our hands on without getting caught.
How much we tell our bestie.
Spoiler alert: EVERYTHING.
Buried underneath the piles and piles of thongs and sexy underwear we never wear are the ugly — but oh so practical — panties we wear during that special time of the month.
We will blame the dog even if the dog is nowhere in sight…or smell.
How we get in those jeans.
Because all they really care about is how to get us out of them anyway.
He knows when it’s that time of the month but admitting it is like admitting we don’t wash our bra everyday… which we don’t.
Where hairs really grow.
After 30 the possibilities are endless.
Sometimes our legs look like crop signs. What can’t be seen shall not be shaved!
How much money we make.
We don’t want to emasculate him by breaking through that glass ceiling, and also, more money for us to spend selfishly on ourselves.
Our “real” number.
There’s the number of people we’ve admitted to sleeping with and then there’s the number of people we’ve actually slept with… and it’s a lot higher.
Any contact with our ex.
Just because we’ll flip at the slightest mention of his ex doesn’t mean we’ve stopped being “just friends” with ours.
When other guys flirt with us.
He doesn’t need to know — unless he’s pissing us off, and then yea, “he wants me.”
How crazy our mom is.
This one’s tough because while we want to bitch to him about how crazy she makes us, we know that he knows we are slowly turning into her.
How we really feel about his mom.
We are going to take him away from her and she’s just going to have to deal. Oh, and Christmas with our mom every year, duh.
Posing naked in the mirror.
So when he asks us what our favorite position is we have already determined which one makes us look the skinniest, and it’s that.
Crying in the mirror.
Making sure our real tears still look cute, and making sure our fake tears still look real.
We catch them all the time readjusting their balls but they never catch us readjusting our boobs.
50 Shades of Grey.
Because we don’t need him getting any crazy ideas…
How many of our notebooks are covered with his name in hearts.
We aren’t teenage girls anymore but the notes from our Continuing Education class sure looks like we are.
How soon we see a future with him.
From the moment we swipe right on Tinder the kids are already named and our whole life is planned out on Pinterest.
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