Set: Kitchen, in never-before-seen state of being almost bare and yet somehow messy, as Kory Husband is going to be painting the kitchen with his buddies tomorrow. (Read: slap on some paint and drink beers and take 27 smoke breaks until one of them dares the other ones to see what happens if they mix all the cleaning products under the sink together and then breath in the fumes.)
Wife is surreptitiously eating The Baby’s sugar cookie from Perkins. She appears to be eating it sneakily and guiltily even though she is almost certain her daughter didn’t even know she HAD a cookie from Perkins.
Husband walks in kitchen. Seeking coffee. And more…….
ACT I
Husband: Gimmee some sugar.
[Husband makes “eyebrows” at Wife]
Wife: [Crumbs on face and sprinkled across her bosom, an area of such food collection capability, if is commonly referred to as her “SNACK TRAYS”] I’m eating a cookie.
Husband: [grabbing Wife] So? Give me a kiss.
[Wife gives Husband chaste, quick kiss]
Husband: [affronted] No! A REAL kiss.
Wife: Hoooooooney. I am eating a cookie. I have food in my mouth. On my mouth. In my hands. On my shirt.
Husband: I don’t care. I like the food on your…… shirt……… [A lot a lot a lot of eyebrow waggles]
[Wife, sighing, giving off definite “I am really being inconvenienced, here”, body language. She leans in and gives the same type of kiss but like 7 or 8 times – machine gun- style. kiss!kiss!kiss!kiss!kiss!]
[Husband makes assumption that this is the start of something]
[An uncomfortable moment happens when Wife pulls back, done with kissing, and takes a bite of her cookie while Husband is still partially kissing the air in the space that Wife used to occupy]
Husband: More. [A directive]
[Wife leans in to give more kiss!kiss!kiss!-type action and Husband grabs wife and kisses her in a way that appears as if he is about to cover her face with his mouth like a scuba mask.]
[Wife breaks away, laughing]
Wife: You’re being all….. MAULY……..!
Husband: Not really. [Grinning] I’m being faux mauly.
Wife: Did you just say FAUX MAULY?!
[Husband smiles and leaves the room with his coffee, brushing cookie crumbs off his shirt, with the certain knowledge that he just made the blog.]
[Curtain closes]
THE END
