The following is an email exchange confirming the logistics of a long neglected trip to the jeweler to remove links from a too-large watchband and the negotiation of dinner plans for two parents, three kids and one cat:
From Mr. Snark to Mrs. Snark @ 12:56PM
You said 4 links, correct?
From Mrs. Snark in response @ 4:34PM (long delay due to work, after school karate class, trip to CVS to secure entirely necessary half-priced easter candy assortment, and trip to the local food pantry with kids to drop off food, not candy, donation.)
Um, yeah, four hours later.
You said you wanted pizza for dinner, correct? (He said no such thing. This is just representative of a day in the life, married to Mrs. Snark.)
From Mr. Snark in response @ 4:35PM
I’m getting a haircut at 6:00. Means won’t be home till about 6:50 or so. Do you want to wait or get it yourself? (Time for some audience participation here. Can you guess? Does Mrs. Snark get off her butt and go get the pizza?)
From Mrs. Snark in response @ 5:05PM
have lost the will to live which includes losing the desire to pick up pizza. (Caps withheld to subliminally convey desperation and malaise. Mr. Snark is no stranger to this unspoken message and knows when there are no caps, there will be no negotiating. The man is a saint. Completely and totally, a saint.)
you’re it. onions and peppers?
the cat is eating that red headband i rejected this morning. i hate that cat.
headband snack notwithstanding, i think he wants plain cheese, thanks.
you are the glue that holds this rotten family together.
From Mr. Snark in response @ 5:56PM
What’s today’s existential crisis? (Did I say saint? I meant tolerant but still lovably imperfect, and snarky of course.)
If the kids can keep from chewing the furniture, I’ll bring pizza as soon as I can.
Aw, now I feel bad. Easter candy and pizza for everyone. Even the cat. If he takes off that damn headband.