so anyway, there was this thing i was supposed to have done that i didn’t want to do and thus hadn’t done, and so my wife pestered me about it for a few days until one evening i snapped and told her to quit nagging me about it.
and then she was upset because i’d said she was nagging and i was upset because i’d snapped at her for reminding me to do something i needed to do anyway and so i decided to go for a walk to calm myself down before things went any further.
i’d gotten half a block away when my cellphone rang. it was the wife.
there’s a wasp in the kitchen, she said.
are you all right? did it sting you? i asked, concerned.
(she’s allergic to stings)
no, but it’s still there and i can’t go in the kitchen
so i turned around, went back to the flat.
where is it, i said.
on the mug by the sink. i almost put my hand on it, she said.
so i went into the kitchen, rolled up a magazine, killed the wasp, threw it away.
it’s dead, i said.
sorry about snapping at you earlier, i said.
sorry about nagging you, she said.
and that was that.
