Sharp alert

“I need to buy one of those mini-Sharpies on my way to work tonight.”

“Why?”

“Mine ran out of ink, and I need a new one.”

“Why can’t you get one from the café?”

“Only the first one is free.”

“What color do you need?”

“I dunno, whatever.”

I go and rummage through what *appears* to be a random box. “I’ve got orange. And pink. Here’s green.” I toss each one to Matthew on the couch.

“Where did you get these?” he says in amazement, mouth open in a look of surprise as he catches each one.

“I dunno.”

“Why do you have them?”

“I don’t remember.”

Sometimes it comes in handy to live with a selective amnesiac.