Ever wonder if a morning bad attitude sets off a whole world of hurt? Mornings when Keith’s here, we barely talk. I guess it’s just our routine. Both our cell phones are set to go off at 6:20am. We both hit that initial snooze, and then he gets up at 6:25. I usually hit one more snooze and halfway doze/worry about whatever work related issue has played the starring role as far as keeping me up all night off and on. I head out with the dogs right at the same time he is heading to his truck, and we share a sweet goodbye kiss and a “Have a good day” or “I love you”, and he always looks adorable in his baseball hat, which he only wears to work.
Today I came out to the living room, and I was like, “Really, guys? REALLY?” Five empty beer cans in front of where Paul was sitting, four in front of Keith. Yes, I retired immediately following the Super Bowl, and left a sinkful of dishes, but I hauled a slew of beer cans out to the kitchen and disposed of them before I went to bed, and this morning I was just disgusted. I didn’t expect a visit from the dish fairy as I slept, but I would have been appreciative of just some beer can disposal. For Pete’s sake, we’re 35- could it possibly be time to grow up, just a little? This whole diatribe went down only in my head, of course. Which I imagine is for the best. Anyone for whom I’m willing to buy and prepare Walleye must mean a great deal to me, seeing as I hate seafood. And everyone has a bad morning, especially on a Monday after the Superbowl, right?
Dishes are done and I am about to finish the surface clean and wrap up the last of the beer cans. All’s well that ends well. And it must be love that I bought walleye for him, seeing as I hate fish.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment