Me: "Uh-uh. I'm up here now. Eat something else."
Adam: "Uh-uh. Go edit your column."
Me: "Uh-uh. I need your help on that."
Adam: "Well, you go get started. I'm going to eat my salmon salad."
Me: "You don't love me." *pout*
Adam: "Because I'm not editing your column?"
Me: "Because you're eating stinky fish guts."
Adam: "Honey. I love you. And I love salmon. If you can't understand that, I think you may be having trouble with the whole poly thing."
Me: *sputters indignantly*
Adam: "I'm not asking that you get along, mind you."
Adam: "You're esophagus-blocking."
Adam: "You are blocking the salmon from my esophagus."
Me: "You suck."
Adam: "This is why you married me, you know."
Adam: "Go edit your column."
Me: *stomp* *stomp*
And that is why I am downstairs right now.
Not that it matters, because the entire upstairs is going to reek of salmon all night and half of tomorrow now.
*glares through ceiling*