Lockdown Admin

'Are you going to return that?'

Husband gestures at the cardboard sleeve on the table.  It contains a mobile phone case that was too large and which needs to go back to the vendor.

I nod, irked that he's reminding me.  I'll get round to it - sometime.  'Yes.  Of course.'

'Because if you don't do it soon, you won't be able to.'

'I know.  I've got until July to send it back - it'll be fine.'

'Well, just so you know....'

We stand in silence for a moment, then Husband grins.  'You hate me sometimes, don't you?'

After a pregnant pause I say 'Of course I don't.'

'But you paused.'

'No, I didn't.  I was just thinking.'  (Specifically, I was thinking; 'Oh it has to be returned?  No shit, Sherlock... ' but that doesn't seem a helpful thing to say out loud.  Particularly because I've already had it a week and haven't yet got around to it.)

'Thinking what?'

I turn away so he can't see me smirk.  'I was just wondering if you can read my mind.'

Husband considers this, perhaps trying out his - thankfully - non-existent telepathic skills.  'No.  No, I have to say I can't.'

'Huh.  Well, that's probably for the best.'

We snort companionably at the horrific thought of being able to read each others' minds, and the cardboard sleeve remains on the kitchen table.

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