Hate When That Happens

I have a hard time saying, "I'm sorry." Really hard. Come on, y'all, who wants to admit they're wrong? Not me.

I've developed a habit of offering a sheepish grin and a, "Do you want to be friends again?" to Sean after an argument. Rarely do I have to dig down deep for an actual apology because he mostly lets me get away with this.

But last night I messed up. We were cleaning up and putting away clothes and stuff, when Sean yelled up front to me, "Hey, Steph, have you seen my ties? I can't find them." Because he is always asking me where things are (his razor, this paper, that random thing), I was kind of annoyed. Like, "How should I know?" annoyed. So I kind of snapped back ever so slightly that I wouldn't have any idea where his ties are because I have no use for them.

Then I remembered. I had taken all of his ties and put them in a bag to take shopping so my mom and sister could help me match up shirts. Oops.

I had to say I was sorry. For reals. It went a little something like this.

"Hey, um, I, uh, I need to apologize to you. Because, um....
Itookyourtiesandputtheminabagtotakeshoppingandmatchthemupwithdressshirts.Okay?So,I'msorry."

And if you know me, you know I said it that fast too. And since last night, I've been listening to Sean replay the conversation for me, only I think he's way over-embellishing my snottiness.