This conversation happened today.
Me, on the phone with my darling husband, whom I adore: "I love you, you know that, right?"
My darling husband, who knows me so well: "Uh-oh, what did I do?"
Me: "You know last weekend when I was gone and you decided that it would be a brilliant parenting decision to have a water fight with the kids and spray them with the hose, regardless of the fact that it was January?"
Marty, laughing: "Of course I remember! That was awesome."
Me, unimpressed with his laughter: "Yeah. Well, did you know that you didn't undo the hose from the faucet, even though it was in the 20's last night?"
Marty, still laughing: "Oh, my bad."
(Insert a short pause here, while I compose myself before I resort to exerting my go-go-gadget arm to smack him through the phone.)
Me: "Well, I had no idea that there was a hose, hooked up, turned on, and sitting on the patio. So when we got home today, and I let the boys play in the yard while I went inside for a few minutes, what do you think I found when I came out to get them?"
Marty: (OK, he said nothing. He was merely laughing hysterically, enjoying not only the mental picture this drummed up, but the fact that he was on the phone, and therefore out of arm's reach. Apparently he forgot about the go-go-gadget arm, or the wrath of a ticked off wife, both of which can extend for miles.)
Me: "Why are you laughing? You have three soaking wet and shivering boys here, who decided that spraying each other with the hose was a great wintertime activity."
Marty, still laughing, and by the tone of his laugh, probably had a few tears running down his face. He might have been on the floor for all I knew: "Bwaaahahahahahahahahahahahha!!! Hoo, I'm sorry, but that's funny!"
Me: "Are you really sorry? Because the fact that you are still laughing suggests that you might not be entirely sincere."
Marty: "Well, I am sorry. I'm sorry I got caught!" And then he dissolved into another hysterical laughing fit.
Truly, I have five kids. A six year old, two four year olds, a two year old, and a thirty two year old who is too big to tackle to the floor and refuses to listen.
And that is why I love wine.