Last night, I was actually a member of this conversation:
Me: "I wish you'd take my legs into the bathroom and shave them for me."
Him: "Oh yeah...and you can't shave your legs until you get back."
Me: "What?"
Him: "Why would you want to shave your legs now?"
Me: "Because they need to be shaved. The hair is starting to revolt and curl up."
Him: "You wouldn't shave them for me before you got here, or while you were here with me, why would you want to shave them right before you leave? So you can have them clean-shaven for your boyfriend in El Dorado?"
Me: "Yes. That's exactly my plan. You've found me out."
(I've found, with much experience, that it's just easier to agree.)
My freshly shaven legs and I are off to El Dorado today - for a weekend rondezvous with the object of my secret affections...MY JOB.
Oh, the shame.
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