Yarn Bribery

I am studying for the Bar on Friday night.

I have been studying for hours.  Days.  Weeks.  I like to shut myself into what Fiance lovely calls my Fortress of Solitude (a.k.a. The Wood Office; a.k.a. The Room of Requirement), so that the dogs won't come in and state at me, making me feel guilty for working instead of walking them (Fiance works from home, and claims that if you are by yourself long enough, the dogs will actually start talking to you).

All of the sudden, there is a knock on the door.  "Come in," I say.  Silence.  "COME IN, YOU WEIRDO!" I holler, because Fiance is the only other human in the house and is not opening the door.  More silence.

Annoyed that I have to get up from my comfy chair where I have holed myself up under my "Pussies Unite" quilt with a Trenta-sized mug of Irish breakfast tea, I grumble, push my feet into my foot sleeping bags, and shuffle to the door.  There is no one there except Breck, who gives me this look:

I also see a piece of cardboard which says, "Follow Me."  The cardboard is wrapped in beautiful blue and purple and turquoise yarn and leads downstairs, wrapped around the banister.  I roll the yarn around the card, following it down the stairs, into the living room.  There is dinner on the table, a fire in the fireplace, and Fiance in the living room wrapped in yarn.  I laugh and head over to thank her for being adorable and for making dinner for me.

Trying to untangle her from the yarn, I notice that she is shaking uncontrollably.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" I asked sensitively.

Fiance then gives a beautiful speech ending with, "And if you say yes, I will knit you a hat out of this yarn.  The colors made me think of you."

I said yes.

Moral of the story:  Bribery works.