Him: What’s this? (referring to pile of pony beads on cookie sheet, next to pipe cleaners) Oh shit. I don’t like the looks of this.
Me: What? (attempting to sound genuinely offended)
SK: I don’t want to have to clean this shit up later.
Me: What are you even talking about? I got it.
SK: Yeah, right. :::snort:::
Me: I do! Besides, it’s not that big of a mess. I used a tray. Wasn’t this in our vows, “I promise to clean up after her, whether crafts projects, or verbal diarrhea”?
SK: No. But it should have been. I would have mentioned something like this, for sure.
Me: That’s what you get for waiting til the last minute. Point, me.
SK: :::walks away, crunching on his bowl of Christmas Crunch cereal, that I thoughtfully picked out:::
UPDATE: I cleaned it up all by myself. Color him surprised. Oh, and I made dinner, two desserts, and kept three kids from killing each other, or dying by my hand. Take THAT, Sky King!
