Me [on the phone with SH]: What are these giant boxes in the living room from? They look like giant pizza boxes.
SH: From those suits I ordered.
Me: Oh. So they can go in the recycling.
SH: No! I want to keep those!
Me: Why on earth?
SH: They're a good size for sliding under the car. [To collect any oil drips and keep them from getting on the garage floor.]
Me: OK. Fine. But this box - from the knife that you ordered. I'm putting that in the recycling.
SH: But you won't do it right.
Me: Because putting a box in the recycling is so hard.
SH: Why don't you just leave it for me to do when I get home?
Me: Because when I leave things for you to do, they never get done.
SH: That's not true. I do things that you want me to do all the time.
Me: Name one.
SH: All the time.
Me: Just one.
SH: The other day, I got rid of all of that stuff on the stairs.
Me: You put it in the guest room. That does not count.