My wife and I exchanged gifts last night. [Christmas is, let’s just say, loosely interpreted at our house.]
She gave me a certificate good for seven nights where she takes over meal prep and cleanup to free me up for writing. Turns out I had given her coupons in a previous year [not yet redeemed] that nudged me into the kitchen while she worked on art projects.
It’s inevitable. We’re both going to flash our coupons on the same night.
So either Boo suddenly assumes the bipedal position and reaches for the Dawn or that’s going to be one cluttered sink in the morning. [See previous post– 2017: The Year of…]