So. My Wife Came Downstairs Just As I Took A Bite Out Of The Remaining Half Red Onion On The Counter.

so. my wife came downstairs just as i took a bite out of the remaining half red onion on the counter. literally within seconds of just getting away with it. i looked at her, and she looked at me, and we both sat there a moment, all frozen, before she said babs, what the fuck. i tried to say i can explain but it came out as or corn explorn because such was the onion in my mouth that there was no room for words. its honestly a miracle that she understood me at all. at least, i'm assuming that she understood me because she did let me get my bearings for a few moments. a smarter man would've used that time to think up a good lie, but instead i just chewed as fast as i could because i knew i was gonna have to tell a whopper and i really wanted to be able to use big words again.

big words are instrumental to telling a whopper.

anyway, i totally ran out of time. i barely got my first swallow of onion in before she said well?, and i did at least have an empty mouth to match my empty head. but also i had no lies. so i looked her dead in the face, opened my mouth and waited, every bit as curious as her, to hear what excuse my mouth was gonna come up with.

im pregnant, said my mouth.

great job, mouth, said my brain.

mmmmm onion, said my mouth.

better you than me, said my wife.

then she went upstairs. it has been two hours she still refuses to kiss me. im devastated. im shook. im crying a little, i think.

(but that might just be the onion.)