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The Crooked Picture
Just an adjustment
“Honey, while you’re up, could you straighten that picture you just walked past?”
“This one?” Daryl asked, looking directly at it from three feet away. “Looks straight to me.”
“But it’s not. I can see from here it’s completely out of whack.”
Daryl squinted at the picture and looked over at his wife sitting cross-legged on the couch.
“Your OCD’s kicking in, Sweetie. No reason to straighten a picture when it’s already straight. Everything okay over there?”
“No, not everything is okay over here. My boss laid into me about not getting the McLaren account squared away. I got into a nasty tiff with Grace on the way home just after some jerk pickup driver almost T-boned me at an intersection. My car sputtered to a stop when I pulled in the driveway. And I don’t feel like getting up to straighten the picture that is clearly out of kilter right now, so would you please straighten it before I lose all that’s left of my sanity today?”
“Done,” Daryl said as he made a minor adjustment to the painting.
“See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?”
Perhaps later Daryl would confess that he merely adjusted the painting a smidgeon and then returned it to its original position just to see if she’d notice.