Friday, September 2, 2011

Pillow Talk

Picture this:

The time is bedtime. Rob gives Fritz his evening Greenie and locks his the crate for the night. Certain dogs still can't be trusted to roam the house after the sun goes down. I am already in bed—comfortable, cuddly, soft. Rob joins me under the covers...slips in without a word. I snuggle up to him, as I am wont to do, and whisper, "Good night, Rob. I love you." To which he replies, "Good boy."



Silence. He's dead asleep.

"Okay, Robby," I giggle nervously. "Sleep pretty."

(It's a thing we say).

"Good boy, Fritz. Good boy."

Alright, dude. Whatever. The girls are so hearing about this tomorrow at Yolk.

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