Thursday Feels Like A Friday

Dave and I woke up late this morning.  Again.  And we also both woke up cranky.  Not outright cranky, but under the surface cranky.  

The kind of cranky where you are both obnoxiously too sweet/ annoying, and you don't want to get into a fight, but you are waiting for the other to throw the first punch and then you can go postal.

Kind of like that.

So sometimes, when I know he is cranky, I mask my asshole-ness as 'love'.  I will physically poke and prod and pull and jump on, and hey look at me! Aren't I SO cute when I tickle you incessantly when I know you want to break my fingers?

So then Dave, just as over the top sweetly, will remove my hands from his various body parts where they are twisting (nipples) and poking (ass cheeks) and pulling (side fat), and smile and ask me to please stop.

Only I won't.  And his sweetly removing my hands turns into him curled up into a weird twisted human thing to try and protect his parts from my maniac hands.  He will resemble a science experiment gone wrong and I will ask with disdain, "Why are you laying like that?".

This in turn will result in him asking me 'how much I like it' while he pokes and prods and twists my bits, and results in me yelling, "OK STOP!", after negative three seconds.

This is what happened this morning.  It went on for WAAAAY too long the way it usually does, until we called a truce and hugged.

Until he whipped his rolled up ball of socks at my face me as I was walking down the stairs. 

OH YEAH?? I picked them up and whipped them back.  And heard a loud wet plopping sound.

I had thrown them into the cat's water bowl.  Oops.  

Truce?

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