This morning as I headed toward the master bath to zip through my pre-work beauty routine, I was assaulted by a horrific cloud of post-intestinal Indian Curry odor. My toenails curled and my shadow (PepperAnn) whimpered as we popped a quick 180 and ran for the safety of the hallway... where we met up with the alledged perpetrator.
I said "Dude! Have you no mercy? THAT toxicity coming from the bathroom is exactly the reason some brilliant woman invented the vent fan. For the sake of keeping the paint on the walls, please use it!"
Notice I said please.
I think Homer started to apologize but caught himself and took the more traveled route. "I can't do anything right in your eyes, can I?"
Well, as long as he'd opened that door, I was about to mention the fact that he only poured me a measly little half glass of Diet Dew to lure me out of bed this morning, when he jumped in with "I even gave you all of the Dew this morning while I drank the ice tea that I planned to take to work instead."
"Um, hun-nee... there was a full 2-liter bottle in the door of the fridge and you can take those cold-brew tea bags to work and make yourself some ice tea in like, 5 minutes." I rebutted.
He looked like he was thinking and opened his mouth... but it was just a false alarm.
'IN YOUR EYES' shall be stricken from the record.