Dave was downstairs doing who knows what, so I started putting dishes away from the sink and dishwasher. No sooner do I open the dishwasher and he magically reappears and starts flailing his hands around because the dishwasher is open and he can’t put his groceries away. I mention calmly that I’ll take care of the dishes later, that it can wait. He comments in his usual asinine tone that he doesn’t know why I couldn’t have gotten it done while he was at the store. Well, gee, let me think. Because it was STILL RUNNING.
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