“Absolutely not.”
Larry stood in the doorway of their kitchen, arms crossed, looking at the offending piece of fabric Lauren was holding up with far too much enthusiasm.
“Oh, come on.” She pouted, shaking the shirt in front of him. “It’s cute.”
“It’s humiliating.”
Lauren gasped, feigning offense. “You’re saying you wouldn’t want to wear a bright pink shirt that says ‘Kiss the Cook’ in obnoxiously large cursive?”
Larry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m saying I’d rather take a slap shot to the face.”
Lauren snorted. “Dramatic.”
She turned back to the camera, which was already recording. “Guys, please take a moment to appreciate my husband, who hates fun.”
Larry groaned, stepping into the frame. “I hate embarrassment.”
“Same thing.”
She tossed the shirt at him, and when he didn’
