I love you. I really do. You are over 9000 times awesome sauce. But, what happened the other day was more than a bit annoying. We had fabulous sex and took a nice snuggly nap for half an hour. No complaints there. Far from it. Then, when you woke up, we both commented on our post-coital hunger. You offered to cook dinner. Wow! I thought that was so romantic and awesome. You told me I could sleep and you’d wake me up when it was ready. I remember thanking you and commenting on how awesome and romantic you are.
Little did I know I had committed the little known fourth classical blunder: unquestioningly accepting something a lover says at face value. I woke up while you were in mid-preparation and, with a big hug, asked how it was going. Stormy silence. Frowny black clouds and dagger vibes filled the kitchen. I tried gently probing you for info onto what grievous sin I had committed, but for the next 20 minutes it was nothing but awkward tension. With my amazing powers of intuition, I knew it had something to do with dinner and your cooking of. I offered for us to go out to eat, to Italian, but you said it was ‘too late.’
Finally, you pounced. ‘You forgot we were supposed to go to Italian today.’ Actually I had not forgotten… I foolishly assumed you changed your mind and wanted to cook for me all sexy-like. You apparently did not believe this. ‘You ALWAYS keep your promises to other people and NEVER to me.’ Ouch! Critical Hit! Fortunately I managed to keep my cool. As hugs and sweet apologies were rebuffed, I just went into the other room, a bit sullen.
After twenty minutes of silent dinner, which I pointed out was super scrumptious, you asked me why I was so quiet. Me? ME?! Uuurrgggh… deep breath. I said I didn’t want to make you even more angry by talking. I said I was sorry for everything I did and we could go to Italian tomorrow and I was afraid of your wrath and omg puppy eyes. Apparently this flipped some switch deep in the depths of your amygdala as your formerly golem-esque demeanor reverted to your usual angelic self. Tears, apologies, and hugs all around. Life was good again.
I guess my point is… to the extent that I have a point… please don’t ambush me after sex like that ever again! I realize I wasn’t entirely innocent either and my writing style in this post probably makes me sound like a total asshole, but god damn…