Sunday, February 24, 2013

Saturday Sept 1 We fight about playing tennis

I got home from work last night at 5:30. Primo got home from doing doors at 8:00. Just when I was thinking of slipping into my PJs and getting into bed with a book.

Primo: You said we would play tennis tonight.

Me: But it's late! I'm tired!

Primo: But I haven't done anything fun all week! I was really looking forward to this!

Me: But I'm tired!

[Cue to politician sulk]

Me: FINE! I'll play!

Primo: You did promise yesterday.

Me: I can't believe you're holding me to that.

Primo: I want to play. I want to do something fun and I want to do it with you. I never see you any more.

Me: FINE.

So we played. And it was fun. And then we went to the grocery store afterwards, which is something I usually avoid, as shopping with Primo is pure torture: he has to look at every single carton of milk and every single package of bacon to make sure we're getting the best one. It makes me crazy. But the courts are right by the store, so it made sense.

Primo: I even like going to the grocery store with you. I miss you! I never see you any more!

Me: The job was your idea, mister.

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