I don't know what it is about the mornings, but I generally end up running late, no matter how hard I try or how early I wake up (my husband is apparently rubbing off on me). I had decided on a shirt to wear for work, only to realize that it had gotten rather rumpled (I guess that's what happens when you pull something out of the hamper.... hey, it had only been worn for a couple or hours.... and I gave it a good febreezing, so stop casting stones). Using any reason I can to avoid the crazy cats in the basement (and running late as it was), I called down to my husband and (in my most sugary sweet voice) asked if he would run my shirt down to the dryer to fluff it up.
"What?! You've got to be kidding me!" was his response.
"Why would I kid about fluffing," I asked.
"You know, if I asked you to do this for me, you would whine the entire time..." he said.
"I'm totally ok with you whining while you fluff my shirt. Besides, what other man would complain that his girl doesn't have a shirt to put on for the next 10 minutes?"
"But that's why I MARRIED you!"
"When you married me, you married my shirts. Get a fluffin'."
And guess who had a wrinkle-free shirt for work today? That's right. Score 1 for the ladies.
"What?! You've got to be kidding me!" was his response.
"Why would I kid about fluffing," I asked.
"You know, if I asked you to do this for me, you would whine the entire time..." he said.
"I'm totally ok with you whining while you fluff my shirt. Besides, what other man would complain that his girl doesn't have a shirt to put on for the next 10 minutes?"
"But that's why I MARRIED you!"
"When you married me, you married my shirts. Get a fluffin'."
And guess who had a wrinkle-free shirt for work today? That's right. Score 1 for the ladies.
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