Over the last year, a single piece of glitter has been haunting me. I thought everyone knew stray glitter flecks meant infidelity; The 90s version of a lipstick stain. But my husband didn’t get that memo.
“You have a piece of glitter on you,” I accused.
“Do I?”
He didn’t get the point. Naturally, an obsession with spousal fidelity followed.
I could thank t…
