|
|
|
Mr. Pooh is a moody bitch Yesterday my main squeeze Mr. Pooh and I were driving home from the beach. There was a dead squirrel on the road, and a crow at the side of the road near the dead squirrel. Mr. Pooh suddenly swerved and ran over the dead squirrel. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "What?" Mr. Pooh asked. "You ran over that dead squirrel," I said. "No I didn't!" Mr. Pooh was getting defensive. "You did. I felt the bumps. You weren't going to run over it, but then you swerved so that you did." "I was swerving to miss the crow." "The crow would have moved." Then we turned onto the road by our apartment. Earlier that day we'd had a conversation about why there aren't any squirrels by our apartment. Now I saw one in the field right next to where we live, so I said, "There's a squirrel. A live one. You probably want to run it over." The last part was a joke. Mr. Pooh suddenly started driving like an asshole, like not slowing down enough when he turned corners, and turning the car off before it had stopped moving. Then he got all his stuff and started walking to the apartment without waiting for me. At home he was stomping around and slamming doors. "Okay, what are you mad about?" I asked. "You accused me of running over a squirrel on purpose, and then made a mean comment to me about how I want to run over squirrels," he said, then stomped outside and slammed the door. "Damn, what's up his ass?" Miss Kitty asked me. "He's just a moody bitch," I told her. Mr. Pooh overreacts when he thinks I'm criticizing him. I thought girls were supposed to be the moody ones in relationships. Mr. Pooh is the moody one in ours. A couple hours later Mr. Pooh had calmed down. "Are you still being a moody bitch?" I asked. He laughed. He thought it was funny that I'd called him that. I think he likes that label. The End
|