The devil made me do it

There I was, standing in the kitchen, Jeremy at the kitchen sink.

He carefully poured our nightly allotment of vitamins out into his hand.

Knowing I was behind him, he stretched his hand out towards me without turning.

I paused for a second, debating, as a wicked thought crept into my ear and wove its way into my brain.

Jeremy just stood there, waiting.

Then, the little demon in my head (I affectionately call him Thornybottom. He's prickly when he sits on my shoulder and whispers wicked things to me.) told me I should do it. I HAD to do it.

Okay, I'm easy, I thought.

*SMACK*

Up flew the vitamins.

They hung in the air for a glorious moment, and then descended, bouncing all over the counter top and onto the floor, rolling in furious ovals.

Jeremy didn't turn around, but I could feel his eyebrow shoot up in semi-amused annoyance.

And I just laughed.

A wicked, almost-insane laugh.

Good times.

P.S. ...still makes me laugh...Ha ha ha!