Friday, April 1

[I got punk'd]
I spent the whole morning conjuring up impotent April Fool's pranks to unleash on Phil (we women always want to spring for the pregnancy scare for some reason) and never once thought that he might get me first — and best.

He comes home every day at noon for his two-hour lunch, and today was no different, except that I met him in the hall and he wasn't wearing his scrubs. And he looked mad. "Well, that was a fun job," he said. I instantly (thought I) knew something bad had happened. "I guess I won't be going back there. I got fired."

He proceeded to explain that he was supposed to be restraining a big dog while the vet gave it some shots, but that he didn't have a good grip and the dog lunged at the doctor's face, scaring the bejesus out of her. She took the other doctors into the back room for a minute, and they came out and told him that if he didn't have the confidence to properly restrain the animals, that they wouldn't be needing him anymore. And with that, he was fired.

I was horrified, and went in to comfort him, and he yelled "April fool's!" in my freaking face. So I hit him.

3 Comments:

Blogger phallicpen said...

You should've bitten him in the face. Stupid poetic justice.

Fri Apr 01, 05:13:00 PM  
Blogger theogeo said...

Dammit!

Fri Apr 01, 11:28:00 PM  
Blogger Wendy said...

Kudos on hitting him. I don't think I hit my boyfriend quite often enough. Maybe I'll beat the shit out of him later. Domestic assault be damned!

Sat Apr 02, 03:29:00 AM  

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