“You cannot sit next to me in our car,” he says, “if you’re really taking that thing with you. It is not even supposed to be called a newspaper.”
This gains us full attention of the till lady. I smile at her and promise him to throw away the shit of a newspaper as soon as I find out what I want to know. He grumbles. Definitely not happy.
“I’ve never bought one myself.” the nice lady tells me.
“Well, neither have I,” I explain: “this is my very first time.”
“Take care of it, then. You may want to frame it.” Now I am laughing: “We’ve been on holiday and I want to know what happened in Norway. And then I’m throwing it away. I promise.”
She smiles at me and we leave. A bit later, I keep my promise. His mood gets better.
– – –
It is Wednesday evening, quite late actually, and I am sitting on the floor, typing this. I am also listening to Adele. I still haven’t stopped adoring her. Well.
He hates her voice and her music. When he gets home, I am going to switch her off. Life’s definitely too short for late evening dislikes.