cross

The Fella and I had the following exchange last night. The last bit was played out silently in my head.

Elsa: I’m sorry if I was terse. I’m just so cross! I’ve been feeling cranky and cross all day, but I don’t like being grouchy with you.
The Fella: Oh, [endearment], don’t worry. So you’re grumpy! You’re entitled to be grumpy once in a while!
Elsa [silently]: “GRUMPY”? WHO THE HELL SAID I WAS “GRUMPY”? HOW DARE YOU CALL ME “GRUMPY”? I’LL SHOW YOU “GRUMPY,” MISTER!

So I’ll cheerfully admit* to being “cross,” “grouchy,” and “cranky,” but “grumpy”? Certainly not, and that’s a fine lot of cheek you have to suggest it!
Between this and the kung-fu action dreams, I think it’s time to crank down my caffeine intake and maybe take up meditation.
*“Cheerfully”? Well, no. But “admit” is accurate, anyhow.

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