He's cute when he panics

I gave the Pretend Husband copies of my past tax returns in an envelope yesterday and repeatedly warned him about not losing them, leaving them at his office, etc. Apparently, he listens to me as well as our puppy does (still working on the basics, like "Come," "Sit" and "Please don't chew on the coffee table.") So this is the email the PH sent me this morning…

It just occurred to me that I do not have your information on my desk. In a moment of panic I thought... “idiot, idiot, idiot! How could I lose your information? How would I get back all of your tax returns???? How will my life change– never have sex again except for the purposes of reproduction? How would it feel to be greeted with a look of bewilderment and disgust?” These thoughts went on for what felt like an eternity...
Then I got a grip on myself. I said to myself, “Chris (that is what I usually call myself in times of crisis), what did you do with the stuff? You were on the phone in your office, that is it!! Where could it be?” Hmmmm.... what did I do yesterday? Where was I before I left?
Oh yeah, the paralegals asked you about an envelope left in a file you closed yesterday. The other attorney is an idiot. Why did he leave me an envelope with somebody's tax information? What an idiot. Call the other attorney’s office and ask them what they want us to do with the information. In fact, ask his courier when they show up to pick up the package. What? The courier doesn't know what that is either? Oh well, hang onto it until they tell us what it is.
Then I thought, what was the name in that envelope? Looks a lot like the envelope I got from KAT. Do you think.....? No. Well, let’s check it out. Hmmmm..... KAT. Holy crap!!! I am the moron. Not the other attorney. However, I just saved my life and my sex life for that matter. It is only 10:30 am.
I love you!!