“That’s it! You reached the quota! You’re a stinker and a fool, and I’ll never forgive you again!!”
“What are you talking about?”
“I have sat here and smiled and told you it’s OK while you sinned against me 490 times — and I took it, because Jesus said I had to forgive you 70 times 7 times. But this is 491 times that you’ve pulled this kind of thing. No more!!!”
“You counted?”
“Of course I counted! How could I forget?”
“What about the part where love keeps no record of wrongs?”
“Oh. Crap.”
“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t realize I was sinning against you.”
“That helps — actually, no, it doesn’t. How could you be so dense and thoughtless?”
“You never said!”
“I was supposed to forgive you.”
“How’s that working out? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have changed.”
“You would?”
“Well, I would have tried, at least. I never want to hurt you, let alone sin against you.”
“You don’t?”
“Of course not. Remember the part where I love you?”
“You do?”
“Oh boy, we definitely need to communicate better.”
“We do.”
“Can you forgive me for the 491st time if I promise to try harder not to do stuff like that?”
“The rule said 70 times 7 is the limit.”
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it that precisely.”
“I guess not. OK, I forgive you.”
“And you’ll let me know if I slip up again?”
“Oh, you can count on that.”
