My Husband's Safe Word is "Okay"

I have to imagine that being married to me is kind of challenging sometimes, not only because I have occasional intense attacks of airheadedness and sometimes forget to use my indoor voice, but also because I get attached to weird shit on a pretty frequent basis, and when I bring said weird shit home, Rich needs to live with it too. One of the ways he deals with this is by doing this thing that I assume is some form of dissociative behavior, where I come in all "look look I found this notebook made out of elephant poop" and he gets this kind of blank look and goes "okay." He also uses this when I get on a tear about something weird and/or esoteric and/or imaginary. Today's example:
I had popped in to TJ Maxx to pick up some river rocks (long story) and I was wandering around the home section when I saw this little piece of psychedelia. There were also teapots in the same kind of style, and a cow, but neither had the flair of this little guy. I am totally putting him in my Lair of Knowledge. How do you find something this cracked out and not buy it? This picture is totally not doing it justice either - the colors are much brighter, but unfortunately I have a Blackberry, which comes equipped with the worst camera in the history of camera phones so until I relocate my stupid camera charger you're going to have to deal with this kind of picture. On the upside, this bird is so magnificent it may be better this way, kind of like looking at the sun out of the corner of your eye instead of staring right at it. I never learned that lesson about the sun, that's why I can look directly at my new best friend here without going blind.

Anyway, I showed the bird to Rich and he went "okay," and for whatever reason, his tone made me realize that he's totally using "okay" as some kind of safe word in hopes that it will make me stop. Unfortunately, I don't really have control over my behavior, so it has little effect. I mean seriously, I am always going to look at something like that bird and immediately want to have it, much like my Disco Lions. Rich is probably lucky I'm his wife and not his dominatrix, because clearly I would be terrible at it. It's a valiant effort though, and the good thing is that now that I have the Lair of Knowledge I can stash my dumb crap down there and he doesn't have to spend his day looking at it. I'm kind of imagining him walking around when I'm not home or something, catching sight of things and going "okay" and then getting all sad because it just. will. not. stop. Poor Rich. He really is a ridiculously tolerant human being.