Why I love my husband, part GOK

Mark: Babe, I think we're gonna need to vacuum in here.
Me: ~looking at the pile of shoes by the foot of our bed~ Oh?
Mark: Yeah. I keep getting Not Shoelace in with my shoelaces.
Me: What, my hair? They're just nesting, sweetie. Give 'em enough time, they'll give us little Timberlands! Dae could walk in style! We'd never have to buy shoes again!
Mark: Nah, new blood, we'd have to buy new blood. And breed 'em for style.
Me: Like my pretty, useless boots crossed with the combat boots? Looks good & functions well?
Mark: Yeah. The metal-capped ones, though...
Me: ~nodding~ Couldn't breed for that; they weren't manufactured that way.
Mark: Right.
Me: We've had this conversation before, haven't we?
Mark: Manufactured shoes vs. bred shoes. Somebody's bound to get some sort of superiority thing going.
Me: Shoe wars. We'd all go barefoot. ~eyes the shoe orgy some more; sighs~ Alright. Vacuuming goes on the list.