[ WP ] You come home from work and the house is empty . On the kitchen counter , a note says `` I did n't know '' .

That was always his fucking excuse. Always feigning fucking ignorance. I really wonder whether the douche ever listened to me. Ah well, ca n't really complain. I love him all the same. I married him full well knowing that this was what I was signing up for. 
 
 Brian always had a crazy streak. When he told me on our honeymoon that he had a confession I was as worried as any newly married lady would be. Confessions usually are made either before the proposal or a few years into marriage once it's too late to really do anything about it. So when he `` confessed his superpower'' I burst out laughing. Typical weirdo, this boy was. 
 
 Can magically leave post it notes where ever he wants. Yeah, right. 
 
 And then the next week our house was flooded it sticky notes. He made a living breathing mummy out of me once. Just. For. Kicks. 
 
 And then once the plumbing burst. Did he bother buying the cement? Nope. Enough sticky notes that they formed a dense cluster under the sink. So many of them wet and dripping and stuck together that it did n't matter whether they were initially made of paper or not. The glue from each of them had condensed into a tight, little resin and not a single drop of water was able to find its way through since. 
 
 On this particular evening it was his turn to cook dinner for me. All Fridays were. But he thought I would n't be in town so he'd go out for a steak with his friends. His damn cell phone was always turned off, so I called up Steve and asked him to let Brian know. Friday's were supposed to be our special day of the week together. 
 
 Steve had either forgotten to tell Brian in time or Brian had overlooked the fact or he was simply using the oldest trick in the book to get out of spending time with his wife. 
 
 Nothing else was required as an excuse these days. `` I did n't know'' were the new three magic words. 
 

