Indeed. And while I have made it, it seems my boots are nibbling my toes. I need to go remove them and figure out what's going on.
(Remove the boots, not the toes.)
OK. I know being out of work stresses the Mrs., but I’m really not sure what she’s mad about this time.
She texted me to swing by the supermarket and get a half-gallon of milk. She said if the bananas look fresh get seven.
So now she’s screaming at me about what she’s supposed to do with seven half-gallons of milk. I told her she shouldn’t ask me to bring it home if she doesn’t know what to do with it. And *I’m* the unreasonable one.