This is what happens when a hyper-sarcastic BS artist marries a nurse. From time to time I will try to share some of our bedroom banter, as it tends to defy all laws of space, time, and common sense.
7:30am, our bed.
Nurse: OMG I slept so bad. I was so hot, I had to get up and turn on the air.
Moron: (looks up to see the fan turning) You mean the fan?
Nurse: Whatever. (We'll cover word selection in a coming post)
Moron: I slept like ass too...late night pizza always means nightmares.
Nurse: What did you dream about?
Moron: Not a dream, a nightmare.
Nurse: About what?
Moron: About me having neuroblastoma.
Nurse: What were your symptoms?
Moron: Um, just one symptom. That the doctor told me I had neuroblastoma.
Nurse: Oh. Ok.
I'm pretty sure we're the sexiest couple I know.
Writer’s Workshop: Like A Drifter
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