George does not return my feelings. He has taken my heart, thrown it on the floor and stomped on it. And then vacuumed it up.
This morning, while cleaning my room, he glided out from under my bed, his dirt detector flashing with disgust. Coldly, almost mechanically, he demanded that I clean his brushes. I mean, there was not even an ounce of affection in his voice. I blame it all on Jane, the sleek, floor scrubbing robot he met on iHarmony. And you know what they say, "Jane, you ignorant . . ." Whoops, sorry, this is a family-friendly blog, so I'll leave the rest unsaid.
Don't get me wrong, though. If Jane showed up on my doorstep, I'd welcome her with open arms. George and Jane could even dock next to each other. So long as she scrubs my floor.
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1 comment:
Does somebody have a tissue !! This story was very touching... Ha Ha
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