Monday, April 25, 2016

The king of fragrance

This weekend, Malcolm came from the kitchen to find me in the living room and accused me of stinking up the bathroom and not doing anything about it (turning on the fan, lighting a candle, anything like that). I denied the allegation. He raised his eyebrows at me and we continued to watch the Jays game.

After another trip to the kitchen and back, Malcolm asked me again if I was sure I didn't forget about an odourous bathroom escapade and I again, denied being at fault. He narrowed his eyes at me, the doubt clear on his face.

After one more exit of the living room, I was ready for Malcolm to return and ask me again. He returned, but didn't ask me. This time I raised my eyebrows. He apologized.

"It was my durian drink."

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