... off again.
“That’s fine, sweetie,” he said, trying not to show any disappointment at making the mature, but boring, decision. She poured the cereal into two bowls, added milk, and set it down on the table. “When do we need to get the kids from school? I’m not usually home this early.”
“Oh, Bob, it’s only one o’clock. We’ve got the next two and a half hours to ourselves. Wanna…” She trailed off, as he was already loudly munching the Bran Fibers and hadn’t heard anything after “one o’ clock”. Dejected and a little sexually frustrated, she began to eat her own, much smaller bowl of cereal, bent slightly to accommodate the low table.
Outside, Lucius drove by the house, leaning on the horn. Startled, Bob twitched his spoon arm. It was enough to destroy his cereal bowl and tip the table 30 degrees, with him at the lower end. Almost as if in slow motion, he saw Helen’s hand stretch up and catch both cups of orange juice before they shattered on the ceiling.
“Good reflexes, honey! You’ve still…got…it…” He trailed off as he looked down and saw her. Her baseball t-shirt was soaked with milk. Her face portrayed surprise, but not anger…yet. Hell hath no fury, Bob thought to himself…
Suddenly, she burst out into laughter. Bob...