I was half-asleep this morning when I heard Paul talking downstairs. I rolled over to his [empty] side of the bed, trying to get a good look at the clock with my one eye that would open. 6:00 am? What is he doing awake at 6:00 am on a Saturday?
Paul sets a cup of tea on the bedside table for me.
Paul: "Time to get up beautiful."
Me: "I thought it was Saturday and we didn't have to go to work."
Paul: "I wish I was Saturday, then we could stay in bed and [censored].
Me: "At least it's Wednesday, the week is half-over."
Paul: "Hon, you know it's Tuesday, right?"
Me: "Oh bugger."
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