I walk downstairs in the middle of the night to find my husband on the couch, asleep. He looks fairly uncomfortable, so I wake him to ask if he'd rather sleep upstairs in our bed.
Him: No, I'm good here. In fact, I'm delicious!
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
February 26
Me (lying in bed reading)
Him (asleep)
He reaches over and grabs me, shaking convulsively.
Me: Sweetie...what's wrong?
Him: (almost crying) My husband was lost at sea and I'm very sad.
Me: patting his shoulder "Honey, you don't have a husband. You're married to me, and
I'm right here."
Him: (slightly waking) It was a story that an old Jewish woman told me.
Me: Go back to sleep.
Him: (12 hours later) I just finished reading The Perfect Storm. I don't remember the old Jewish woman.
Him (asleep)
He reaches over and grabs me, shaking convulsively.
Me: Sweetie...what's wrong?
Him: (almost crying) My husband was lost at sea and I'm very sad.
Me: patting his shoulder "Honey, you don't have a husband. You're married to me, and
I'm right here."
Him: (slightly waking) It was a story that an old Jewish woman told me.
Me: Go back to sleep.
Him: (12 hours later) I just finished reading The Perfect Storm. I don't remember the old Jewish woman.
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