Grape

We were in the bathroom one evening, washing up for the night.

The husband, grabbed his bar of soap, worked up lather and started foaming up his face.

“You know, there’s a bottle of facial cleanser right next to you,” I said, pointing to my mildly-expensive-and-proudly-almost-100%-natural Burt’s Bees range of facial products.

The husband, splashed away the foam on his face, gave me a haughty look and said “It doesn’t smell like grape.”

Sabar je lah.

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