Puppy Dog Eyes

It was an accident, a soapy miscalculation but it was his favorite mug. Something I picked up for him while on a business trip.  Didn't cost much but to him it was as precious as a Faberge egg.

He'd have his tea in it or hot cocoa on those frosty days. It fit perfectly in his hand, with a nice thick handle he could grip securely when his hand started to shake. Now that handle lays shattered on the floor.

I guess I could try to glue it back together but it wouldn't be the same. Stick it way back in the cabinet, nah. Lie? No, that would be unforgivable. Guess I'll have to own up to it. I have some time before he gets out of the shower.

Had to be the anal asshole and scrub the tea stains out of it before I put it in the dishwasher. He said he liked the tea stains. What's that all about? To me it looked like the bottom of a dirty toilet bowl. Oh boy, now what do I do?

Puppy dog eyes, maybe if I give him the ole puppy dog eyes he'll take pity on me, bluff my way out.

Shit, he's out. Here goes nothing.

"Uh, Justin?"

"Brian, what did you do?"

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