When your husband compares you to a fursona

I’ve recently developed an obsession with soft cheese. Yesterday evening, when my husband and our friend were eating their shish-kebabs, I regaled them with a boring story about how I couldn’t wait to eat the new cheese I bought so I walked through the streets of Times Square trying to eat my cheese, like a second-class citizen.

Because, you know, what else are husbands and friends for?

Ben looked at me point-blank and said that had he known that I eat cheese like that before the wedding, he might have not married me. He then proceeded to compare my cheese actions to that of the Furry fandom.

What is the Furry fandom, you ask?
“Don’t google it,” Roy, my friend, said.

Of course I googled it.
Here is the Wikipedia link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Furry_fandom.

I feel like getting compared to a fursona might be grounds for divorce but that’s just me.