The Husband likes to read in bed each night. Just him. Alone. In silence.
But like any good husband knows, that is like lighting a flame in front of a moth. Not only does the cat sit right on his face so he cannot see his book, I also decide it is the perfect moment to have a crisis of faith.
So last night, I climb into bed a mere 1 minute after he has gotten comfortable and settled the Kitten and start running my mouth.
Me: What are you doing?
Husband: Reading.
M: I need some attention.
H: I can see that.
M: Am I a bad person?
H: No baby. Why would you think that?
M: I don't know. Because I can be full on and intense and I ask questions that no one else asks. Is that a bad thing?
H: No.
M: Are you sure?
H: Yes.
M: Seriously?
H: Well I don't know is it?
M: So it IS a bad thing?
H: {seeing the error of his way}. No it isn't a bad thing but you won't take no for an answer no matter how many times I tell you.
Silence.
M: Am I pretty?
H: {slamming his book on his face} Yes baby. You are beautiful.
M: Cause sometimes I don't feel it.
Silence.
M: What are you doing?
Silence.
M: {sigh and roll over a few times to get his attention}
Silence.
M: I need attention.
H: Just shut up and go to sleep I have read the same paragraph 4 times since you came to bed. Its no wonder it has taken me weeks to finish this book. You never leave me alone.
M: {pouting} OK.
He is so delicate that man of mine.