“Every time you get your nails done,” she screamed, “every lunch with your friends, everything you put in your mouth, I’m paying for.”
“Send me a bill and I’ll reimburse you,” I told her.
“It’s not about the money. I don’t want the money. I WANT YOU TO APPRECIATE ME PROPERLY!!!”
“Should I kiss your feet while saying I’m lower than shit?”
“That would do for a start.”