I told him I would take out the trash.

“You’ve had a rough day, I’ll take out the trash. You just relax.”

He flung himself around on his heels and revealed his serious-talking-about-to-happen palm.

“Sweetheart, I love you - very much. But. I very much appreciate your offer. But.”

There was pause. I couldn’t read him. What the hell did I just say? I thought I offered to do a chore, but he’s acting like I just asked him to back up his bare ass to the cold tile in the shower?

He continued. After a deep breath. “When you take out the trash, you only take out the trash that doesn’t freak you out. When I take out the trash, I take all of the trash out, like the big bang intended. So no.thank.you. You will not be taking out the trash.”

I realized he was right about this. “You really are right about this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Tomorrow morning when you shower, would you do me a favor? Would you back your bare ass up to the cold tile for me?”

“No.”

“I thought you loved me.”

“Empty the green trash can.”

“Ew. No.”

And while this entire exchange appears to some to be full of missed points, it is not. It is two feral brains saying I love you in the only way they know how.