“If you love me, you’ll trust me.”
Ever hear that one?
I hear it all the time.
She comes home with a bow and arrow, wanting to put an apple on my head to shoot off.
Or a wheel to strap me to as she throws knives at me.
Then there’s our savings account. Every weekend, she wants to take it to Vegas with dreams of not leaving it all there as we hitch a ride back home.
Today, she’s cooking dinner.
She sets out a plate and smiles.
I take one whiff and…
“So, where’s the bow and arrow?”