Fletch: "What are you doing?"
Me: "What does it look like I'm doing?"
Fletch: "You appear to be washing your foot in the kitchen sink."
Fletch: "I don't want to know why, do I?"
Me: "Someone had an accident in the dining room and I stepped in it. Didn't you hear me screaming five minutes ago?"
Fletch: (shudders) "This is why I always wear shoes in the house. Always."
Me: "Oh, please. It's fine. I cleaned it up. And now I'm washing my foot."
Fletch: "Aren't there more appropriate places to do that?"
Me: "Well, I rinsed my foot under the hose, and then I dunked it in the pool, and now I'm washing it in the sink. What's the problem?"
Fletch: "This is why your Martha Stewart project is doomed."
Me: "Why? I'm using antibacterial soap!"
Fletch: (walking away) "DOOMED."
My project is totally not doomed.
But I may finally reconsider my stance on being barefoot in the house.