Hotpot night

In the front yard, I sat on a chair, Robert sat on a chair and crow sat on the table. We were having soup.

“Thanks Robert,” crow said.

“Why did you thank him?” I asked.

“Because of him, I can join the two of you tonight.”

I looked at Robert. He didn’t say a word and pretended to focus on taking beef from the soup pot.

“I am who invited you to this dinner and I am the one who prepared all of these. Why didn’t you thank me?”

“Because you were the one who caused me this,” the crow said and pointed to her forehead that was wrapped.

“Why me?” I asked.

“At that time, I was flying back home then I saw Robert was arrested, so I hurriedly flew to tell you but you didn’t wake up. You know I knocked on your door for more than ten minutes, but you were so lazy. Because I was frustrated, I decided to hit the door on purpose to break it into to wake you up. And it caused me this.” She pointed to her forehead again.

I looked at Robert, “You see? It’s the cons of being in love. I am innocent, but now I turn out to be a bad guy.”

Robert showed me a grin, “This is your favorite meatball.” Then he put it in my bowl.

What could I say? Nothing besides, “Let's forget it.”