The Questionable Antics of My Writer Wife: part 3

It was Monday morning, and like all people with all Monday mornings, I instantly didn’t like it. But the day goes on whether or not I do, so I hurled myself out of bed and began my morning routine. I got the coffee can, started the brew, turned on “The Daily Show”, and fixed myself a cup. After the show it was a little after 7:40 and I noticed that my wife hadn’t woken up yet. So I went to check on her.

Sure enough there she was curled up into the smallest ball she could possibly make, with the entire comforter tightly pulled on top of her. It was really cute actually. As much as I wanted to join her we both had to go to work in about an hour so I had to wake her. All while shaking her I said “Come on honey you have to get up.”

“Mmmmmph… no.”

“Yes, it’s time to get up.”

“Let me sleep.”

“No, you have to go to work.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”


“Yes, just get up.” I tried to yank the comforter off, but she just wouldn’t let go for even a second. “Come oooooooon!”

“Noooooooooo! I’m calling in sick!” At this point, I’m fed up and just let her do it. I hopped in the shower, got out; brushed my teeth, put on deodorant and cologne. Then as I stepped out of the bathroom Amy, strode past me, coffee in hand, fully dressed, and on her way out. Annoyingly confused, I asked her, “I thought you were going to stay home today?” She swiveled around to talk to me with a disinterested face (while walking backward), shrugged her shoulders and said, “Eh, I got bored.” That morning I made sure to pick up a bottle of ibuprofen before going to work.


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