I stood at the kitchen table folding a load of clothes. All grey this time. I could only guess there must have been another rogue tissue or bill somewhere in our black clothes again.
I turned to my husband who was happily playing Free Falcon (a fighter-jet computer game) with his force feedback joystick and throttles. Bless him for trying to help around the house.
"Can I ask you something?" I winced.
"Sure." Still playing.
"Promise not to get offended?"
"Uhhh... Okay." He pauses his mission and looks up at me from under his cap.
"Well,... can you please stop doing the laundry?"
He stares at me, blinks.......
"...............Sure!" and un-pauses his game.
Well, that went better than I expected. Fewf.
"And tell your wing-man to make sure you're back at base in time for dinner, okay?" *snicker*
"Yeah, yeahhhhhh, hush your butt."
"Can I ask you something?" I winced.
"Sure." Still playing.
"Promise not to get offended?"
"Uhhh... Okay." He pauses his mission and looks up at me from under his cap.
"Well,... can you please stop doing the laundry?"
He stares at me, blinks.......
"...............Sure!" and un-pauses his game.
Well, that went better than I expected. Fewf.
"And tell your wing-man to make sure you're back at base in time for dinner, okay?" *snicker*
"Yeah, yeahhhhhh, hush your butt."
No comments:
Post a Comment