The Crime Scene

You could say my husband and I are in a reel-ationship. He didn't want to be, but eventually, he was worn down by my constant meme sending on Instagram.

"You are poisoning my feed with cat videos," he told me after I'd sent him several memes in the span of a few minutes.

I informed him that the definition of poison had nothing to do with cat videos. He did not agree, and I continued to send them. And then one day, he sent one back!

And, like all social media, the more we sent, the more my feed got, and soon, my husband said, "How are there so many memes about our relationship? Are we that Basic?"

And maybe the answer is yes. One of the memes I really like are two cats making weird noises at each other. One of them is labeled HIM and the other HER. HIM is asking where an object is. HER is saying it's right in front of his face.

Which is apparently Basic, and entirely true about our relationship. I don't ever need to hide presents, I just put them in a location my husband would never look, like where the oregano is, or where he last put his running shoes.

But, it turns out I am not as sneaky as I think. One night I was having trouble sleeping, and I went out on the couch to read for a while. I eventually went back into bed. As usual, my husband got up before me (also proven through Basic memes) and when I finally stumbled out of bed (there is a cat meme for this too), I told him that I had moved onto the couch for a while because I was having trouble sleeping.

My husband, fully caffeinated, dressed, and completely ready for his day looked at me seriously.

"I know," he said.

"I woke you up?"

"No. It's a Parn crime scene out here. Look! A blanket, discarded socks, and a book about shipwrecks!" He wiggled his eyebrows at me and took a sip of his third cup of coffee. "And you think I don't notice details. You were clearly out here!"

He then sprung from his chair, downing the final dregs of his coffee, and told me he was going to the hardware store. Like the hero detective he was, he sashayed out of the living room, while I blinked at my wadded up blanket, crushed socks, and shipwreck book.

It made me think maybe I should go better hide his birthday present. But instead, I put on my socks, got under the blanket, and picked up the book. Shackleton had just gotten stuck in the pack ice. My husband was at the hardware store, his present could wait... But could Shackleton? No.

I knew how to prioritize.

Is there a meme for that?