[I realize my girl has “stolen” the bottle I refill with Crystal-Light-type drinks every day, and look around for it.]
Me: “Here I am telling you you’re doing a good job, and there you are, stealing my stuff! Like a common thief…Thiefy McThieferson…”
[My girl laughs for five minutes. I recover the bottle, which is hidden on the floor behind a cardboard box.]
My girl: “I drank from that, I drank it.”
Me: “You drank from that?”
My girl: “No.”
Me: “Good, because it’s got all my germs.”
[My girl shudders and makes several kinds of grossed-out gagging noises, then looks at me.]
My girl: “No offense, no offense.”
[I laugh.]
My girl: “I hate germs.”
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