How Husband Got a Black Eye

Me: Man, I really wish I knew where my watercolor paper was, I have to do a painting.
Husband: It's in the garage behind that obnoxious piece of furniture you won't get rid of.
(Disagreement on how I do want to get rid of it, it just didn't sell at our last garage sale ensues.)

One week later:
(I bought a new package of watercolor paper, not a bad price, but still not cheap.)
Today in the Garage with Husband:
Husband: "Look, there's your watercolor paper!" (NOT pointing behind said lingering furniture).
Me: "What! I just bought a new pad!"
(Husband exits, I come around and stare, not finding the prize, swearing I'm staring right at it and don't want to ask husband for fear of his token 'If I find it, can I hit you?')

(I continue looking and off stage left, a glimmer in my periphery leads me to the disparaged pad of paper.)

(Husband enters, searching behind the now famous piece of furniture.)
Me: "What are you doing?"Husband: "Looking for your paper!"
Me: "Behind the furniture? You said it was over THERE!" (Points across the room, to the so-called hiding place "discovered" only moments ago.) "And it was neither place! It was right here all along!!!!"

Dumb husband, caught in his steaming load of horse crap, slinks away, metaphorical tail between his legs.
This is what I did to him.

Or it's just last Halloween's really good face painting. Either way, I did it.