Well, telling knock knock jokes first thing in the morning always got me yelled at. Except from my daughters who would just sullenly slam doors.
Of course, us terminally-snoopy retired types are curious as to what the joke was. Care to share?
This is another personal anecdote, off topic and way too long, but I've had over 1,300 likes so somebody doesn't mind putting up with my nonsense. Or the mods can just kill it, I won't mind.
The joke was just a flippant comment. I'd made a great fettuccine last night, with some small chicken slices and thick mushroom gravy and it was delicious. We slurped it down, the BF made various yummy noises, and after the first period we both went back for seconds and polished it off. It was delicious!
This morning, the BF comes out of the shower pinching a bit of flab and says in an accusing tone, "Your cooking is making me fat."
I know what he wanted to hear but I was in the wrong mood so I smiled and patted his tummy and said, "Good, because today is Fat Tuesday". Whammo, in like 10 seconds we had a major fight going. Bit of background: I'm naturally slender. Even though I eat like a pig, I never put on weight. I'm within a kilo of what I weighed 7-8 years ago. The BF, on the other paw, is getting progressively plump in an adorable way and getting very sensitive about it.
It ticks me off to be blamed for his metabolism and eating habits, so I didn't back down. He was still smoldering and pouting when he got home tonight. Silent most of dinner, sullen afterwards, he slumped in front of the TV and refused all my attempts to lighten the mood here. So I did the Bikini Revenge game.
Perhaps your wives or GFs have played this on you, there's all sorts of versions. About an hour ago, I wondered aloud to nobody if my swimsuits still fit (because I never gain weight and he does, dig, dig, dig.) So I went in our bedroom and changed into a bikini and then came out to "model" it and asked him if he thought it still looked okay. A few mumbled growls in return. I went back and came out in a smaller bikini and asked him what he thought, walking between him and the TV. He snapped "It's fine" and stared harder at the screen.
I really have just the two bikinis (because there's SO many suntan opportunities in Winnipeg in winter!) so I changed into a third suit which will never go further than the balcony and wiggled back into our living room. I innocently asked the old cliche, Does this make me look fat?, and the BF leaped to his feet and stomped off to his home office (aka spare bedroom) and slammed the door so hard they heard it five floors away.
Smirking to myself, I went and got dressed and now I'm back at my laptop, where I spend 60% of my life, no longer feeling very clever at all. Sigh. I may have to make do with fantasies of Axel this evening. Worse, I'm starting to think this whole spat is mostly my fault.
others may disagree, of course.
