Strangers will judge you

Boyfriend as he watches me clean up a puddle of beer: What’d you do now? 
Me: It wasn’t me! 
Boyfriend: Sure it wasn’t… 
Beer rep guy stocking near me: It wasn’t your fault. You’re an innocent by-stander. 
Me: I know, he just likes to blame me for everything. 
Beer guy: That’s the kind of guy you don’t marry. 
Me: Haha— uuuhhh… 
Beer guy: Oh, don’t tell me you’re with him. 
Me: Ahem. Uh, yeah, I am…

The boyfriend’s reaction to this conversation? “Well, if the beer guy says you shouldn’t marry me, I guess we should just break up now. It’s been fun. We cool?” 

Not in the slightest, kid. Let’s go make-out.

(He does blame me for everything— more specifically, he blames the fact that I’m French for everything— but it’s only a joke. He also calls me Frenchie and secretly loves when I speak French to him. It’s fun.)