Right before bed last night I raced upstairs to beat John to the bathroom-- and beat him I did. When John came in to brush his teeth he found me laughing and saying, "Uh oh" to myself. He did what any person would do when they find their significant other cracking up on the toilet in the dark, he asked, "What's wrong with you?" And with that, I presented to him my panties that I had forgotten to take off before sitting down to pee. I don't think I've done that since Kindergarten.

I think this is a true indication that I'm losing my mind, quickly rather than slowly.

In a totally unrelated story I would like to talk about how John's crazy too. See, because I can do that and he can't, because he refuses to blog with me. I've mentioned before how John talks in his sleep and he's really creepy about it because he sits up with his eyes open, grabs me and babbles about something strange and completely off the wall. Well last night he grabs me, shakes me awake and points in horror at the corner and asked me, "Is that a 20 lb rat or is it a 20 lb rabbit?" (as if it would really matter which 20 lb creature it was). Seeing nothing I groggily decided what to reply with other than, "Why are you waking me up!" I decided that telling him it was a rabbit would be more soothing so I said, "Babe, it's a 20 lb rabbit and it's not going to hurt you." He responded by pulling the covers up over his head and saying, "That's what you think, I'm getting the hell out of here!" and then he burrowed deep into the bed so that he was completely covered. His final muffled cry was, "Good luck!"

It's good to know that I'm going to have to be the hero when there's a 20 lb rabbit in the room!