P is over, grading.
I'm trying to catch up on a month's worth of chores.
So I tackle the stove-top, removing my coil guards and breaking out the Soft-Scrub. I get about two minutes into the whole thing before P starts clucking about how I'm "doing it all wrong," and takes over, pushing me out of the kitchen.
Hey, I took "tell me your non-sex fantasies" literally.
OK, back to the stove-cleaning.
:-P
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