It’s My Way Or The Fae Way

My wife sent me to the store for ground sausage, and I came back with sausages, leading to this conversation.

Me: “I’m sorry. I should have realized you meant ground sausage from context. You only asked for one package, but a pack of sausages wouldn’t divide evenly between everyone.”

Wife: “Whenever I send you to the store, I remind myself to write like I’m communicating with the fae, and I forgot to do that, so it’s my fault too. It’s fine, I can cut them up.”

I’m not sure if that was more offensive or funny, but I’ll have to be more cautious about reading the shopping list going forward. For the record, one, we are both autistic, and two, dinner turned out fine.