The wife won’t usually climb into the attic so keeping things squared away up there is my job. But that’s cool. I’ve learned to use it to my advantage. Just another piece of real estate for me to use as I please.... until last night.
She climbed up there looking around for a good while. Said she thought we had more Christmas decor stuff somewhere. Yeah whatever. I knew better. I keep all the Christmas stuff in one section. Away from my stuff.
Anyway, she comes scooting down ass backwards struggling with a box so I try to give her a hand and help her down. *I got it!*, she snapped. Dang... did she actually find more Christmas stuff? But I was certain..
*We need to talk*, she says.. Oh crap, those 4 words that make me cringe. Did she notice me wince?
*What?* I asked, prolly sounding more guilty that a kid with cookie crumbs all over his face.
*This. There’s like a dozen boxes full of these up there. Why would you hide something like this? Do you have some kind of problem?*
I just stood there with the hourglass spinning trying to download my reply...*uh, I usually catch them on sale and buy a hundred or so and just put them up*
*You’re disgusting!*, she says, shaking her head.
*Gosh damn woman, they’re just magazines. What the hell?*
Her already twisted face turned to some horrified look, kinda like she was so mad she was gonna cry or commence to beating my ass. She just dropped the box on the floor and stomped away.
I was pissed. *Hope you didn’t break any!*
She came back into the room a minute later while I was opening the box to check the goods. I knew they were ok, mind you. They’re PMAGs after all. Not hardly gonna break but she was outa control.
*Then she just stood there... *what are those?*
*Magazines I told you!*
*For what* she asked. Her face looking worse than before.
I swear I just don’t get women....
She’s all apologizing now. Did we just have some sort of looney tunes moment? I guess I should call someone.
She climbed up there looking around for a good while. Said she thought we had more Christmas decor stuff somewhere. Yeah whatever. I knew better. I keep all the Christmas stuff in one section. Away from my stuff.
Anyway, she comes scooting down ass backwards struggling with a box so I try to give her a hand and help her down. *I got it!*, she snapped. Dang... did she actually find more Christmas stuff? But I was certain..
*We need to talk*, she says.. Oh crap, those 4 words that make me cringe. Did she notice me wince?
*What?* I asked, prolly sounding more guilty that a kid with cookie crumbs all over his face.
*This. There’s like a dozen boxes full of these up there. Why would you hide something like this? Do you have some kind of problem?*
I just stood there with the hourglass spinning trying to download my reply...*uh, I usually catch them on sale and buy a hundred or so and just put them up*
*You’re disgusting!*, she says, shaking her head.
*Gosh damn woman, they’re just magazines. What the hell?*
Her already twisted face turned to some horrified look, kinda like she was so mad she was gonna cry or commence to beating my ass. She just dropped the box on the floor and stomped away.
I was pissed. *Hope you didn’t break any!*
She came back into the room a minute later while I was opening the box to check the goods. I knew they were ok, mind you. They’re PMAGs after all. Not hardly gonna break but she was outa control.
*Then she just stood there... *what are those?*
*Magazines I told you!*
*For what* she asked. Her face looking worse than before.
I swear I just don’t get women....
She’s all apologizing now. Did we just have some sort of looney tunes moment? I guess I should call someone.
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