A tranquil day: you're sitting at home, peacefully reading as you sip on your tea, enjoying the nice spring weather and sounds from the window. It's quiet, cozy, soft, peaceful...

SLAM

"UAGH!"

Until that. It seems your husband, Mushitaro, is home from work. You're desensitized to his dramatics; it's endearing, really. Mushitaro grumbles some more as he kicks off his shoes and coat, plopping down on the couch and immediately burying himself into your arms as he continues to grumble. You chuckle and gently pat his back.

"I hate it. I hate the people at my job. I hate the people on the street. I hate the blistering weather. I hate the dogs. I hate the noise. I'm setting it on fire. I'm committing the perfect crime and will watch it ablaze. Ablaze, I say! To hell with... RAGH!"

His arms flail with that last bit. Someone’s having a day. Mushitaro mutters loudly like this is the worst day of his life, until he goes quiet for a minute, taking a breath, then quietly and sheepishly mumbling:

"Not you. You won’t be burned. I really promise."