My darling husband is a great conversationalist. He’s especially funny when he’s asleep.
This morning as he snoozed, I kissed him before I left for work. “I love you,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To work,” I replied.
“Specifically?” I questioned.
“The doctors’ office,” I said. Aside from the one day a week when I work at Chef’s shop, the doctors’ office is the only place I work.
By then he had woken up a little bit. “Oh,” he laughed. “Of course.”
When we were engaged, I was visiting Chef at his apartment in Michigan. He had been going to classes and working like mad, and he was falling asleep. I don’t remember what I had said to him, but he replied, “My wife won’t be crazy. She’ll have appropriate chunkage.”
Just a few years ago, Chef and I were lying in bed and he reached over to hold my hand, but in his sleepy state, he couldn’t find it. “Where are your hands?” he asked.
I laughed. “They’re at the ends of my arms, where they always are,” I joked.
“Be careful,” he admonished me. “They will turn into coins in twenty-one days.”
He was cracking me up. “My hands are going to turn into coins in twenty-one days?”
“Yes,” he assured me.
“Why are my hands going to turn into coins in twenty-one days?” I asked.
He replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Because of the power of milk.”
Who knew milk was so powerful?
And who knew sleep could be such an adventure?