I stand dramatically in the doorway and turn to SharkBoy. My eyes languidly landing on his equally couch-prone body.
“Do you… love me?” I ask breathlessly.
“Where is this coming from?” He answers (I notice) with a question.
“Well. Say I were to shit on something you own…”
2 thoughts on “Utter the Truth”
I was thinking Fiddler…
The Husbear tends to ask me that same question (the Do you love me one), and I tend to answer with “What did you do?”.