"You missed a spot."
"Huh!"
"You missed a spot... up there in the corner."
"Oh... yeah I see it... I'll get it in a minute... right now I need to sit down and take a break."
"Ah, come on... don't poop out on me already... You've been telling me for the last three weeks you'd help me paint this eyesore of a kitchen."
"Yeah, yeah I know... but we're almost finished and my feet hurt from standing on the ladder."
"Jimmy, I know you hate to paint, but could you keep your focus on it for just a bit longer... Of course your feet hurt... you've been up there painting in the same spot for the last five minutes... Is something on your mind?"
"Well... I've been thinking about how nice it would be if we went in the bedroom and made a love sandwich... You know... a little potluck picnic where I would provide the meat and you would provide a couple of pieces of hot buttered bread... I could slide my meat into your bread and..."
"Oh, shut-up Jimmy and get back to painting!"
"Right... That's always your answer isn't it?... 'Shut-up Jimmy... forget what you're thinking about and listen to what I'm saying'... Because, what you're saying is sooo much more important than what I'm thinking or feeling"
"Usually"
"You're such a smart ass... sometimes you piss me off to the point I feel like saying the hell with it!"
"What's wrong with you?"...
"What's wrong with me?... If you ever actually listened to me, and decided to care what I'm saying, a smart girl like could figure it out... that is, if you wanted to."
"Okay... So you want to start getting nasty about things, huh?... Alright, go ahead... get nasty and vent about whatever it is you think I've done to you."
"Get nasty... Yeah, that's exactly what I want to do... But, it's not about what you've done to me... It's about what you haven't done to me"...
"Yeah, Jimmy... There you go making sense again."
"Aw, come on Maddie... You know what I'm getting at... We haven't had sex in a month... I'm hurting... Don't you want to help me when I'm in pain?"