Picture This:
Fisherhead walks into the bedroom, where I lay watching TV and working on my laptop. He is carrying an ice cold glass of lemonade. (Don't freak out! It was Crystal Light and totally carb free.)
He walks over to me and hands me the glass.
"I made some of that lemonade we bought today. Here."
I hand him my favorite Styrofoam cup and ask him to pour it in there.
He gives me a funny look and says, "Well, why don't you try it first and see if you like it."
So I do. It's actually pretty yummy. (Don't know if it really is wonderfully yummy or if my taste buds are atrophying due to too much meat consumption. But, it tasted like heaven to me.)
He takes my cup and pours half of the lemonade into it. As he turns away, It hits me. He didn't bring the lemonade to me. He just wanted me to taste it!
The final clue - as if I needed another one - was Fisherhead muttering under his breath as he walked away, "That was MY lemonade."
2 comments:
Silly you to have thought he brought that nice cold glass of lemonade all the way into the bedroom just for you to drink! You should dish his plate for dinner and take it to him and say I made this for dinner and when he reaches for it walk away with it saying IT's MY PLATE! see what he does...on second thought maybe not since you are BOTH carb deprived!!!
That's hilarious!
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