"I don't know what you mean," I grinned without taking my eyes off the screen.
I so knew what she meant.
When I arrived home tonight it was drizzling and I had two bags slung over my shoulders and a box of fruit in my arms. I banged on the door with my elbow (risking a nasty blow to my funny bone) and waited to be let in. Nothing. I banged some more. I couldn't even hear anyone inside.
I knew what I had to do. Unlock the door. While I can understand they might not have heard my knocking, I'm amazed they didn't hear the huge sigh of frustration with which I met this realization.
Dumping the box and bags I ferreted through my pockets for the keys. This was when the real fun began.
Two minutes later I had finally stepped into my kitchen where I began to relax for the evening by snapping at my wife, "If you weren't going to answer the door you might at least have left the outdoor light on for me."
Tracey popped her head out of the bathroom where she was bathing the kids. "How hard can it be to unlock a door? It's the blue key," she reminded me.
"Which would have helped if you'd left a light on." Maybe if I said it with my hand on my hip while chewing gum I could have sounded more like badly acted drama queen on a sitcom, but I was peeved. The problem is I have no night vision so I had to go through the bunch of keys one by one.
Now I think I know what you're thinking - 'Toughen up, princess!' Well, stand down, Tracey beat you to it.
So it was, three hours later, Tracey returned from the shops and I attempted my revenge.
I turned off all the lights and locked the doors so she would suffer my fate.
"It doesn't bother me," Tracey laughed. "I can see in the dark. If you really wanted to get me back you should have shut the driveway gate so I'd have to get out of the car. It's raining cats and dogs out there."
Damn! The biatch is so much better at this game than me. But that's part of why I love her.
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