No Place Like Home

HIM: Oh honey I’m so glad you’re home!
ME: It’s good to be home.
HIM: Are you mad at me?
ME: No, why would I be mad at you?
HIM: For something I did wrong.
ME: Why do you think you did something wrong?
HIM: Well because everyday for the last 25 years I’ve done something wrong.
ME: True. But I’m not mad at you. (Then I see my favorite bonsai tree dry as old armadillo feces) What happened to my tree?
HIM: I watered it. I swear, I watered it.
ME: It’s parched… all of the leaves are brown. I TOLD YOU to water the bonsai.
HIM: I watered it.
ME: Patrick, water the bonsai tree… saturate it in the sink. (I give him the “I’m going to f**k with you heavily and frequently for this” look) You make my head hurt.
HIM: sighs a sigh of relief) I’m SO happy… you’re all right… you’re as bitchy as you were the day I met you.

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