There’s long been a suspicion in the household of how the Hubster doesn’t really pay as much attention to me as perhaps he should do. Case in point was this past week.
“Hey, Hubster,” I said, my phone roughly three inches from his nose. “Look at this photo of where I was today.”
He’s always keen to hear about my day at work, and as that particular day had taken us to play Pirate Crazy Golf, part of a team-building/getting-to-know-you/building-relationships day with colleagues, it was sure to be a better conversation than the normal one along the lines of.
Hubster. “How was your day?”
Me. “Same old, same old. This one did this, that one did that, I got lost in the warehouse again, lunch was yet another baked potato with tuna, blah, blah, blah, I came home.”
Hubster. “Right. Coffee or tea?” – a euphemism for, well that was bloody boring, let’s move on.
So back to the phone, settled inches from his nose, displaying a superb digital image that with all likeliness will never be seen again.
“Oh,” the Hubster, says, completely genuinely, no jokes, no nothing. “He looks a bit stiff, is that one of your colleagues?”
“WHAT?” I said – phone dropped to my lap, chin on chest, eyes wider than a 10lt casserole dish. “Are you serious? How can that be a colleague?”
Take a look, let me know what you think.
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