Brantley-isms

I sat on the couch drinking my coffee and watching the Today Show. Brantley sauntered down the stairs and asked, "What time are you supposed to go to work this morning?"

"Just some time this morning," I replied.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means when I feel like it." I didn't think this was a difficult concept. "Don't you start stressing me out before I have to go to work," I warned.

"Wow, I would really hate to do that."

I didn't appreciate his tone. "I'll have you know that I have a very high pressure, high stress job that requires me to show up two to three times a month. Do you think I'm going into work this morning to sit on my butt and watch HR videos while eating Skittles? Well, you're wrong. The snack machine is out of Skittles and there is no telling when it'll be restocked."

He sighed. "We need to remember to get you checked."

I shouldn't have taken the bait, but I did. "For what?" I asked.

"Retardation."