Registry of Slights

“Did you notice I get the regular slices of toast and you get the crusts,” says Wifey, smiling as she serves up the breakfast she’s just made.

“Yes I did, Dear,” says I. “And it’s going in my Registry of Slights.”

“Your what?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve been keeping a Registry of Slights. You know, just minor injuries one wants to remember for future consideration... when final tallies are made, you know... if there are final tallies. It’s not so much the crusts as your pointing it out that earns an entry.

“Really. A Registry of Slights. And what else might be in this... Registry?

“Well, almost anything, Sweetie. For instance, when you wash your hands in the sink while I’m doing the dishes and then flick water on the back of my neck though I’ve asked you not to? Several entries on that for sure.”

“I see. And what else?”

“Well, you know how when we get in those political debates, and you always end by saying, “OH, SLADE!” and walking out. Those are entries. And, of course, the warm jelly incident, the marital arts rhubarb, the spiteload tale... stuff like that.

“That’s quite a list,” says Wifey. “Here’s a suggestion. How would you like to start a second registry? We could call it the REGISTRY OF PAINFUL TWEAKS, DOPE-SLAPS, AND BLACK EYES.”

“No, Dear.”

“Shall we just forget about final tallies and registries then?”

“Yes, Dear."