“Did you see what the Joneses got?” Marco gazed out the window.
“Don’t tell me you are falling for this nonsense!”
Marco swallowed a retort. His wife often yelled first and considered second. Getting into an argument in ‘phase one’ only delayed (or destroyed any possibility for) ‘phase two.’
“So?” her hands left wrinkled wet spots on her kitchen apron.
“I’m considering it,” he allowed. Silence tended to increase her ire.
“And for what Godawful blasted reason?”
He shrugged and tried for his one-sided smile. It used to work like magic in the past. Still did, sporadically. Worth a try.
The corners of her eyebrows shifted slightly away from each other. Good or bad, he wasn’t sure, but it was now or never.
“We could tie our Blimp to it, Dear. It is all the rage to have one’s own anchor. Makes it so much easier to unload the groceries.”