Shellfishness

My hubby is home since last evening. It’s now morning, and talking about when I went to bed (I shall not report it, it is quite shocking) and what I had been doing beforehand last night, he got a gleam in his eye and put in a PS2 game that he’s been playing of late … Medal of Honor: Frontline (we get games used, most often, so they aren’t cutting edge new, but some are, not that one though …)

He sat on the hardwood floor for a bit, and had pushed the coffee table way back to give him floor room. He got sick of sitting there fairly soon, and on standing he pushed the table again, turning it sideways, but crooked and as this was happening I half-way queried him to his purpose, and he responded that he was going to get a dinning room chair, but while this was going on the teasing mind was active in me and I said “Daddy’s sellll-fish!” about how he was re-arranging all my furniture to make himself comfy and play his game, not taking the rest of us into account, but I was teasing, it’s true, yet not a big deal, just something to point out the most usual sin in all of us humans.

The funny thing was, the two children sitting on the couch were my two younger and on hearing me they started chanting over and over and over “Daddy’s shellfish, Daddy’s Shellfish” in a sing-songy way.

This was quite hilarious IRL, most particularly since I abhor eating shellfish and won’t tolerate it in my house at all, and won’t let my children eat any of it anywhere else either. FWIW