You'll never get me alive!

WC was over the other night to pick me up and he stopped at the stove.

Him: Can we fix this? 
Me: Fix what?
Him: This is a total fire hazard. 
Me: The stove isn't on. 
Him: But the cats could turn it on. 
Me: The cats? The cats could turn the stove on?
Him: Accidentally. 
Me: You need thumbs to turn these knobs! Cats don't have thumbs!
Him: But it could happen... 
Me: ......
Him: Can we just move the towels? 

I threw them to the side of the stove defiantly...(And really, cats ARE dicks. Thanks Meghan.)

I ran into WC at the Farmer's Market last weekend which was kind of awesome because we didn't have plans. We wandered the market, purchased some coffee (farmers somewhere grew it, I'm sure) and then went to Bed Bath & Beyond so he could buy tape (?).

While we're walking into the store he says, "I'm going to buy you a present in here even if you don't want it."
Me: Well that's a shitty way to offer a gift. "Take this. Fuck you!" 
Him: No, I just mean I want to buy you something, but I don't know if you want it.... and well, you're going to take it. 
Me: Remember how I've told you I'm stubborn and if someone tells me to do something, even if it's something I want to do, I immediately have to SAY I don't want to do it? 
Him: Yeah. Get over it. You're getting a gift. 

So we walk in and wander around. He sees a sales clerk and makes me leave. I remind him that he's not as charming as he thinks he is.

Him: They don't have it. 
Me: What???
Him: They don't have it. 
Me: You tell me I'm getting a gift whether I like it or not. You tell me to 'go away'! And now I get nothing? 
Him: They don't have it... But you didn't even want it... I'll still get it for you, I just have to figure out where to get it. 
Me: Seriously, you're a crappy gift giver. And kind of a bully. 
Him: You can have some of my tape... 

Flash forward to Monday. I am at my desk most of the morning... not running around to meetings or even on calls... just work work working away all morning. I get up to grab my lunch from the kitchen about 12:45 and come back to find a little gift in my lunch bag: An egg timer. A timer for knowing when your hard boiled egg is hard. (I have no idea why he got me an egg timer. None... but it's more likely that it's actually a thoughtful gift from him than weird, because he's thoughtful and remembers things I say and I'm an asshole and can't remember where we had dinner last week...)

I email him: Subject: just in time

 You crack me up. 

(Puns fully intended.)

His reply: No idea what you are talking about… 

Me: Nevermind, then. The toothfairy came by while I was at lunch and gave me some coal.

Him: Never knew the toothfairy to be harsh, but couldn’t you come up with a more macho character to deliver the present? 

(Note: I tend to use emasculating language and he gives me a hard time about it... it's precious like a cute little bunny.)

Me: You'd rather be the easter bunny? Or a fat old man? Superman never delivers treats. He should, but he doesn't. Lazy bastard. 

He comes over and we chat a bit. I tell him this story from earlier that morning:

"I hate you." 

Mr Darcy likes to chew through electrical cords. His favorites are chargers for low-voltage things like my kindle or my cell phone charger. He occasionally will move up to a laptop power cord or the ethernet cable for my internet, but he never ever has touched a cord as thick as a lamp cord or my hair dryer. (For the record, I started using apple bitters on my cords and he doesn't touch them... so long as I remember to reapply about once a year.)

"I'll get you where you sleep." 

Like any morning I want to have straight my hair, I turned on the straightener before putting on my makeup. It was heating up while I sprayed the heat-protecting whatnot in my hair and blew it dry. I grabbed the flat iron, I grabbed a chunck of hair and my bathroom exploded.

Ok, just the flat iron.

Ok, just the power cord. But it sparked a lot and smoked and I jumped backwards and I likely shrieked, but I don't remember. And then I ran around the bathroom making sure all the burning embers (all possibly 8 of them) weren't smoldering waiting for me to leave the room so they could burn my house down.

"...And where you recycle papers." 

And I tell WC this and explain that I tried to sell Darcy on Facebook, but no one would take him but he wasn't really for sale because he didn't mean to try to kill me. He loves me. That's why he scratched my arm in my sleep last night. Love.

WC says: You know what I'm thinking, right?
Me: I NEVER know what you're thinking. 
Him: The other night?....
Me: ....
Him: With the towels...

And now I'm afraid to leave them alone with matches.

"You'll never get me alive!!!"

But not so afraid that I put the battery back in the smoke detector which totally would have gone off this morning because of the explosion and was removed because sometimes when I cook things get a little hectic and I hate being interrupted by my safety devices screaming at me. WC wasn't impressed when I told him that part of the story. Dummy.