On Sunday night I was wincing around the apartment with my newly-tattooed thigh. Every time I sucked breath in through my teeth Craig would look over at my and say “oh, poor baby”*
Me: gah, don’t say that!
Craig: what? why?
Me: don’t feel sorry for me! It’s my own damn fault.
Craig: … I don’t feel sorry for you. It’s called COMPASSION.
Me: … oh.
Me: … no wonder I didn’t recognise it?
This probably says more about me than I would care to admit.
*yes, I know, hush, it’s the cutest