My darling wife is sitting next to me eating a piece of what might possibly be the last watermelon of the season. Sure, we could take out a loan on the cat and buy a melon in December but they aren't as juicy or ice-cold-satisfying in the middle of a (Northern) Indiana winter.
It's not easy to write a blog post with my darling wife sitting next to me offering editorial comments on every sentence. That's why I'm glad her mouth is full of the delicious last watermelon of the season.
3 comments:
Are those supposed to be enlarged lymph nodes on the sides of my neck?
Sorry I was slurping the juice. You don't know it but I spit seeds in your hair too. For that I am also sorry. I hope I am sorry when you come back in here and I ask you to put the plate in the dishwasher for me.
I had nightmares about the watermelon person coming after me last night. Thanks.
That's odd... the other night my wife had a dream with you in it. You were wearing scuba gear and insisting you could swim but everyone knew you couldn't. Then you died.
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