Last week, I was sick of work. This is nothing new, of course. But, I had a few particularly bad days in a row, and I was grumpy.
So, I came home from work, on the verge of tears, and started ranting to Coleman about my stupid job and the stupid things I have to do and the stupid people I encounter.
Mind you, I was making dinner as I was crying about this, so my back was turned to Coleman as I was rinsing vegetables in the sink.
I had gotten to a particularly dramatic part in my complaining, and in a whoosh, I spun to face Coleman and solicit his sympathy. As I turned to look at him, I saw this:
Coleman. Sitting on the dining room table. Sticking his tongue out. Making funny faces at himself in the mirror. Dancing with his hands up to his head like moose antlers. Not listening to a single word I was saying.
So, I called my mom.