The silent treatment

Well dang, now my hubby is giving me the silent treatment.
He was taking my vintage style silver Christmas tree downstairs to the basement (all wrapped up in big black garbage bags) when I said, “please don’t fall, I don’t want my tree to get wrecked!” He stopped halfway down the stairs, glared at me past the shiny black plastic with a few silver limbs poking out here and there, and said, “really? Your worried about the stupid tree?!” I casually answered, “well yeah, all my favorite bulbs are on it!”
Apparently, it was the wrong answer. Ooopps!

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