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| The Inner Mark |
Sleepy time and that bed is
looking good. But first, I have to clean the living room floor so the robot
doesn't get stuck. Take out the dogs. Get Mark his pills and water. Take my
pills. Turn the heat down and turn out the lights. Finally, I get to slip in
between the sheets and drift off to sleep. But wait, what the hell is this?
"Mark! You've been
eating in bed again!" I whine.
No answer from him. He just
grunts and rolls over. Crumbs are everywhere, I hate crumbs in bed. You have to
understand, I have very keen senses and those crumbs feel like gravel to me,
like I'm sleeping on a country road. So I have to turn on the lights and start
brushing the crumbs and bits and pieces of whatever Mark has been eating out
of the bed. I never eat in bed. I don't drink anything while I'm in bed. Not
Mark. I'm surprised he didn't have Thanksgiving dinner in bed. Anyway, this is
what I have to put up with and I know he'll never change. Not after twenty two
years together. So I'll ask Santa for a nice Dust Buster vacuum.
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