My Poor Wife had to go set up a student show early this AM. She had a cuppa and took off around 7 (in this as in most other things we're complete opposites; I need at least 90 minutes to reach a consensus that I'm awake and functioning). I saw to it the cats' needs were met, had my toast and tea, started a load of laundry and spent an hour or so cleaning up from yesterday's storms (four cells passed us in 24 hours, including the biggest hailstorm I've ever been in, ten minutes of flying golfballs). Then I took two aleve for a naiscent headache and lay down for a bit with the heating pad on my grousing back. I heard her drive up. I stayed in bed for a minute. The phone (sister, Easter dinner) got me up.
Got downstairs with the help of the handrail. Couldn't find my wife. Finally located her in Larry's room.
"I was wondering where you were. I just heard you drive up."
"I've been home for forty-five minutes. You were upstairs snoring."
"Liar. I don't snore, and I'm tired of you saying that."
"I already fixed breakfast."
"Now I know you're lying. I would have heard the smoke alarm."