After all of these years, it seems I have finally broken my husband’s spirit, along with his faith in mankind. Or, er, womankind anyway.
Last night, he crawls into bed beside me and begins frantically feeling around for all of the extra blankets and sheets, as he does every night. I never have time to make the bed in the morning, and so it is inevitable that a few of the layers are still crumpled at the bottom of the bed each night.
Him: where is the damn sheet? and that extra blanket?
Me, already half asleep: mm… i don’t know honey…
Him: uh huh, it was on here last night. and they were both still here this morning I’m pretty sure.
Me: yeah, still don’t know babe….
Him: uh huh, you probably have them over there, don’t you? don’t you?!
Me: dammit. You’ve uncovered my masterplan. It was genius too…
Him: I knew it!
Me: shit, well, I’ve been foiled honey, way to go. Now I’ll never be able to carry out my plan to take over the world
Him: LOL, yeah, what the hell would you do with control of the world?
Me: well first I’d start with all the stupid people, then…
Him: Holy shit. You’re serious. Like… you’d actually play this out!
And now I’m awake.
Me: are you serious? have you met me? of course I have a plan for world domination. Now anyway, the stupid people. See, I have this island theory…
Him: Oh. my. God. You’re serious. You’re, like, evil. You’re like… the bad guy in Batman.
At which point he rolled over, whimpering something into his pillow about Gotham being a good city, and corruption and, well, I didn’t really catch the rest of it.
It’s amazing. Of all the horrible things I’ve said and done in the last ten years, this is the thing that finally breaks him.
I guess I’m going to have to redesign the his-and-her bathrooms in the lair.