« Shitty Weekend, Part Deux | Main | Something Stinks In The State of Denmark »

Me: One of us has to do the dishes, and one of us has to bathe the baby.

George: Which do you want?

Me: Dishes. If you want the dishes, you're going to have to fight me for it. And by 'fight me for it,' I mean challenge me to a Rock, Paper, Scissors match.

George: That's okay, I'll bathe the baby. Unless you want to play Rock, Paper, Scissors just for the hell of it.

Me: No, that's okay.

Posted 10 April 2005 at 08:38 PM