Whenever Garret starts a sentence with “Babe…don’t be mad but” I should know that he is up to no good. To set the stage, earlier today I was in the living room doing homework and G was upstairs painting the hallway. Suddenly I hear “Babe, don’t be mad but, can you come upstairs and hold the paint tray” I should not have been surprised to come up the stairs to see this
I am a worrier by nature so that stuff freaks me out. ALSO I don’t want to be dealing with my beloved and his two broken ankles from falling down the stairs. He is crabby enough when he has a cold, I would likely smother him in his sleep if I had to listen to him with broken appendages. His response was “Babe don’t worry…blah blah something about being buff…blah blah” I stopped listening and just held the paint tray with a rising level of anxiety until he came down.