It wasn't my fault my team were playing like rubbish, but I knew I'd cop grief for anyway. Disgusted, I flicked off the footy and sighed, Melbourne's drab day settling in around us.
"Whaddya want to do?"
"We can always get the food in", he said, lazily scratching his belly, not looking particularly excited by the notion. "Or..." and at this he turned a distinctly leery grin my way, "we could always discuss that dent in the car door."
I barked with laughter as he grabbed my waist band and pulled me forward over his knee.
Staying in was good.
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