I love you. I really do. I think you're the bee's knees most days. But its 8:30 am on a Saturday morning and I already want to break your toes with a hammer.
So I am requesting the following:
1. Please stop letting out nasty farts and then giggling. Seriously, go check your pants, there's no way that came out clean.
2. Yesterday the dogs killed a mouse. Yesterday, in the morning, you put the dead mouse in the trash and told me you'd take out on your way to work. Yesterday at lunch I came home and the dead mouse bag was still in the can with the dead mouse in it. Yesterday, you told me that if I put it in on the front porch you would take it out to the can when you got home.
TODAY there is still a garbage with a dead mouse on my front porch.
Other than the above matters, we cool. Know that for every hour that passes between this warning and the dead mouse being relocated is equivalent to one days worth of sexy time being withheld.
(This isn't a PMS related vent, as I am about 20 days away from AF showing up. Just pure old annoyance).