Conversation with My Wife (13)
Morning. Some of us never do well with morning.
I was scanning my Medium feed while doing my morning basement workout on our static bike (readers at home, please don’t try this on a real bike) when I spotted Clay Rivers’ piece:
Since it mentioned my wonderful wife and me, I brought it to Deb, whom I had left in bed because she had only been in it since 1AM. (Yes, I’m a sweetheart. A practical, bright, 5-hours-sleep-is-not-your-best-thing-honey sweetheart who likes his best friend alert and not grumpy.)
ME: “Here, look at this, we got mentioned by somebody on Medium.”
DEB: “Awwwwww, that’s so sweet! ‘[A] chemistry between them that is very much as comfortable as a well-worn t-shirt and an old pair of jeans’. Is he like, an official Medium person, or a normal person?”
ME: “He’s a writer, but he’s a good one.” <seeing her face in the morning light coming from the window> “You are so pretty when you smile in this light!” <knowing my mistake as soon as the words are out of my mouth>
DEB: <face contorts> “I am?”
ME: “What is wrong with your face?”
DEB: “Just trying to look beautiful, honey!”
DEB: <blinks eyes, closes them tightly and opens them>
ME: “You okay?”
DEB: “Sorry, my eyes are dry.”
ME: “Want me to spit on them?”
DEB: <horror> “No!”
ME: “Want me to lick ‘em?”
DEB: <closing eyes and trying to draw them into her skull> “NO!”
ME: “Time to get up!”
DEB: “Before you say anything else dumb?” <rolling out of bed, stops to smooch> “Love you, honey! Mean it!”
