That sort of thing


“Jennifer, damn it Jennifer, where did you put my prunes?” Tim wandered around the kitchen. Randomly opening and closing cabinets and drawers. He walked over to the fridge, opened it, and stared.

“Why on earth are you staring at the fridge like that?” Tim kept staring, his robe hanging open. “Tim, can you hear me?”

Jennifer walked over to Tim and put her arm around his shoulder, trying to coax him out of the kitchen. Tim stood firm. He pulled Jennifer close to him and whispered to her. “Look.”

She smiled and laughed. “Come on Tim. Let’s go have a seat.”

“NO. Jennifer, LOOK.”

Slowly she took her eyes from Tim and looked, to see what Tim was staring at. Her eyes widened as she looked at the scene in the fridge.

Jennifer, reached for Tim’s hand, and carefully removed it from the door. She closed the fridge, and guided Tim to the couch. “I think it would be prudent if we called someone to clean that up.”

Jennifer reached for her phone and began searching for companies that specialize in “that sort of thing”.


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