Me, after having been up and running around for 3 hours already: Do you have any plans for the day?

Homey, after having been up and bumming around for 1 hour: Nope.

Me: Do you want to paint the trim on the garage so we can return the ladder [that we’ve had for, like, 6 weeks] to my dad?

Him: (siiiiiiigh) I guess. What are you going to do?

Me: I’m going to clean up in the kitchen and dining room so I can clean the floors.

Him: Those floors probably need swept before you steam them.

Me, shooting eye daggers: I understand how to clean floors. I am the only one who cleans floors [in our 22 year long relationship, ever, ever].

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Him, annoyed: Ok, ok.

*************************one hour later**************************

Him: I’m done painting! I’m hungry!

Me, about to finally steam the floors after cleaning everything in the kitchen: Ok, I’d suggest you get lunch out today. :D

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Him, genuinely confused: Why?

Me, gestures angrily at floors and steamer in my hand

Him: Ok.

*************************half an hour later************************

Me: Ok, you can come make lunch now, if you want!

Him: I thought you didn’t want me to eat lunch.

Me, like, WTF?: I just didn’t want you in the kitchen while I was steaming the floor!

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Him, understanding: Ohhhhh. Alright, I’m gonna make tacos.

Me: Ok.

************************five minutes later*************************

Him: Are we out of cheese?

Me: I don’t think so.

**********************five minutes after that***********************

Him, walking out of the kitchen into the office: I can’t find the cheese.

Me: Ok.

**********************five minutes after that***********************

Him, returning from the kitchen: You don’t think there’s cheese anywhere else?

Me: I always put it in the cheese drawer.

***********************one minute after that***********************

Him, back from the kitchen: You wouldn’t have put it anywhere else?

Me: NO.

***********************one minute after that***********************

Him, coming out of the kitchen uh-fucking-gain: I found parmesan and an Italian blend but nothing for tacos.

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Me: Ok.

Him: I guess I’ll use Italian.

Me: Ok.

Him: Ok.

Me, staring daggers: Ok.