Okay so, I’m sitting with the bloody buggery git on the flight back home and predictably, he wants to pester me every five minutes.

I get this. I know the man, I married the man, he is who he is. Okay, fine.

So, I’m waiting for him to get it out of his system before I put on my headphones and zone out for the flight. (I hate flying.)

“Honey, I love you.”

I love you, too.

“Honey, do you want the red pillow or the blue one?” (It’s purple, but whatever.)

I don’t care. Whichever you want is fine.

“But do you have a preference for either color?”

(I take the “blue” pillow or this will go on for several more minutes.)

“Do you want to buy any snacks from the snack cart?”

No snacks, I’m fine.

“I still love you.”

Oh, thank god, I was beginning to worry. You hadn’t said anything in whole minutes.

…we do several more minutes of our usual Laurel and Hardy act, and he settles down to grade papers.

“How do you spell… what’s the word?”

I have no idea.

“You know, that thing you did when you were younger.”

Metabolize nutrients? I have no idea what you mean.

(We spend several more minutes until finally his spelling crisis is averted. I tentatively dive into a podcast — last week’s Macbreak Weekly, if you care. Flight attendant comes by with drink service. Back to my podcast.)

“Honey! Honey!”

…yes?

“I still love you.”

Oh, thank god. (Back to headphones.)

“Honey? Honey! HONEY!!”

…yes?

“How do I airdrop these files to you?”

(Tech support hilarity ensues. We get papers transferred to me, and I ask if I can go back to my podcast so I can zone out and try to ignore the fact that we’re hurtling through the sky in a 17,000 lb tube of fiery death.)

“Honey? Honey! HONEY!!!”

…yes?

“Are you listening to a podcast?”

…I loathe you right now. 🤬

Him: <evil grin> 😈