This evening, after getting home from work (YES! I WENT TO WORK!):
Alex: "Did you wash my blanket?"*
Alex: "Did you wash my blanket?"
Me: "Did you ask me to wash your blanket?"
Alex: "I set it on top of the washing machine--that's what that means!"
20 MINUTES LATER:
Alex: "Did you see that Delta got into all that trash in the kitchen during the night?"
Me: "Um, yeah...who did you think cleaned it up this morning?"
Alex: (blithely ignoring that query) "What was that trash doing setting out there where she could get it?"
Me: "You were supposed to take it out this morning--that's what it means when I set it out the night before."
*"The Blanket" is a geezerly polarfleece/flannel number which he uses as a lap-robe in his recliner, and which makes him look like a sexy Mr. Rogers. See? The dog is just an auxiliary (and ubiquitous) lap-warmer.
CHANGING THE SUBJECT: And just now, for the forty-leventh time since we got married (which was just after the 2000 elections):
"Alex, Honey, PLEASE stop yelling at me about George Bush. I have nothing to do with him, did not vote for him, and hold no sway over him. Please join a political action group or start an angry blog."