Me: I’m going to ask your opinion in a minute, but I really just want you to agree with me. You don’t have to, but that’s what I want.
Me: I want to throw the comforter away. It’s so old; I’m afraid to wash it. The dry cleaners won’t even take it. They said it will fall apart.
Michael: So don’t wash it.
Me: Dog Puke. Three times. Remember? We can just get a new one. What do you think?
Me: Do you really think it’s ok? You’re not just saying that because I told you to agree with me?
Me: I’m throwing it away.
Days go by.
Me: (Doesn’t throw the comforter away. Washes it and it doesn’t fall apart.)