Wednesday night I asked Martin to do something in the kitchen. What that exact something was escapes me at the moment, but no worries, its not really important in the story.
Me: Are you going to do that, or what?
Martin: Yeah. It's just really important that I pack some party mix because now I have the bag open and I need to get it shut or it will go stale.
Me: Oh, don't try to pretend like you're worried about things going stale. Half the time when I get up in the morning you've left the English Muffin package wide open.
Martin: Well, maybe I'm just trying to help you out.
Me: Ha! I bet.
Thursday night. we're laying in bed.
Martin: Did you have an English Muffin for breakfast this morning.
Me: No? Why?
Martin: Oh shoot. I thought I was really going to get you because the package was wide open when I got home tonight. Like a perfect square open. But I guess that was me.
Me: Ha. yeah. I guess so.
Martin: Well, I at least always twist the bread shut.
And then I text this picture to Martin on Friday morning.
Me: So much for the I always close the bread theory. lol
Martin: Shit
No comments:
Post a Comment