Impasse

After five years of tension-filled marriage, Kevin and Gail had reached an impasse.

"You don't help enough around the house," she said.

"I do the laundry."

"You start the goddamned laundry. Then you don't move it to the dryer and all the clothes end up smelling musty."

"Well you never shovel the driveway."

She laughed. "We pay a service to shovel the driveway."

"Because you never shoveled."

"Neither did you."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "So, what, we're going to get a divorce over the fucking driveway?"

"Over a hell of a lot more than the driveway."

"You want the lawyers to write 'shoveling' as the grounds for divorce?"

"No, I was thinking adultery."

"I've told you a million times, I didn't sleep with Kate."

"Right. You both had to work late all those times until two in the morning."

"Yeah. We did."

"You're a plumber. Why would your secretary have to work late?"

"Do you expect my clients to float up to their eyeballs in their own shit for hours, because you don't trust me?"

"Oh, please. Give it a fucking rest. I caught you. End of story."

"So that's it?"

"That's it."

"We're done?"

She nodded. "Done like dinner."

He pointed at the front door. "Well, sweetheart, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

"Ha!" She spit-laughed in his face. "You think I'm going to leave?"

"Yep."

"Over my dead body."

"Well, I know a guy..."