Me, sniffling: “Chris, will you do me a favor?” I look at the roll of toilet paper on the coffee table in front of us, and just out of reach.
Chris: “It’s closer to you than it is to me.” This is not true, it’s 2 feet from him, 3 feet from me.
Me: “I’m trapped by all of these plugs.” I gesture towards the two plugs coming out of the computer on my lap.
Chris: “See what happens when you unplug one.”
Me, realizing I am about to lose and grabbing for straws in desperation: “Chris, look at all of the lights that are on. The bedroom, dining room, kitchen, and two in the living room. I bet the bathroom light is on.”
(This stems from an old conversation where I harass Chris for ensuring that our house is the shining beacon of the neighborhood, by turning on every single light in the house for no apparent reason. I wish I could say that this stems from noble reasons having to do with my carbon footprint or something, but I’m afraid it’s plain old fashioned conditioning from my childhood. (I think my brother is the same way). I actually turn off the lights in other people’s unused rooms as well. It’s a problem.)
Chris then surprises me by getting up, tossing me the toilet paper, and then turning off most of the lights! I’m not sure why this made it’s way to the blog, other than this is what I was messing with when Chris took the high road. What a nice husband.