Me = Big. Dumb. Male

So I walked through the door and into the kitchen after my hour-long commute and saw Linda. She gave me that look like something about her had changed and that I was supposed to noticed. I've been around the block a few times, so I said, "oh, you got your hair done", while opening a beer and looking for a dark corner to crawl into.

But then Linda continued to look at me that way...like she was expecting even more. "Oh, and you must have got your nails done too."

Thinking that I made the right guess and that I was free to go, I walked away.

"But Brook!" Linda said.
"What?! What is it?! I noticed your hair! Did you have anything else done?"

And frankly, if she came home missing a limb, I wouldn't have noticed, because you see, I had memorized the hair line. She had trained me several years earlier....wanting look = hair done. Got it.

Off to decompress.

"But what do you think of it, you jackass!"

"OHHHHHHHH. It looks nice sweetie."

I gave her a small hug, felt belittled, and all was right in the world. Me. Big. Dumb. Male. Got it.

Off to drink my beer and decompress.

I take it you haven’t mastered the art of mind-reading yet?

My wife got over that stuff long ago. I never played along. She gave up.