The Sweetness Sickness Continues...

Sigh, an (unsolicited) addendum to the previous post follows.

In the interest of fairness, I should point out the following:

• Other than the occasional MLS game that I also watch, The Object rarely watches ESPN, and when he does, he endures the intense mockery that ensues with the quiet dignity of a prisoner of war.
• I (and the cat) have my own ways of being messy, and they're much more insidious, since they're harder to pinpoint than a big old pile of clothes, so that the Object is reduced to a Potter Stewart-style argument in pointing it out to me. "How do cat hairs get in the freezer?!"
• It is the Object, not me, who makes the bed every morning with hospital corners, and takes time to arrange my plethora of pillows in an aesthetically pleasing pattern.
• The Object makes funny jokes that I then later think are my own, and must be corrected. For example, my friend gave me some Bruce Springsteen songs on my iPod, but she had spelled the Boss' name Bruce Springstein. The Object's immediate reaction? "Who the hell is Bruce Springstein? Does he sing with the Yeesh Street Band?" I'm not that funny.