By process of elimination, the big love language over here is Acts of Service, and I cashed in an Acts of Service card the other day. Gary was in my room and I asked him to get my earbuds out of the table by the bed. I could have done it, but I would have had to lean. (I cannot tell you how many times I have fetched Gary’s remote because he doesn’t want to lean.)
I was still laughing about my ridiculous request when he reached into the wrong drawer and pulled out the New Sex Toy instead.
He stared at it long enough for me to add, “Not that. The earbuds.”
He held my gaze as he dropped New Sex Toy in the trashcan.
Vengeance. Funny, pointed vengeance. I don’t know what he was angry about: my lazy demand for the earbuds or if he’s jealous. Either way, funny.