So it’s my wife’s birthday weekend. And as the amazing, humble, great, extra humble husband that I am, I took her on a mini vacation here in Canada.
I’m so amazing, I even brought her back.
As the day went on, and we continued our stroll, both contemplating how great I am at remembering a date and reacting to requests for celebration of that date, all the while enjoying the very thing I’m being congratulated for, my wife pointed out a small shop.
I, in all my glory, thinking she was being nice, wondered why she wanted to go into a place called Musikki Café. I mean, they had music, but not until later. And they had coffee, but neither of us drink coffee. And she was still full from all the rough sex and breakfast we had.
She, being the ever so patient one, pointed out…
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