Corey slept on the loveseat again last night. He fell asleep with a bag of Doritos on his stomach, his long legs stretched straight up the wall, and the remote wedged between his back and the seat cushion. When I woke up this morning, the faith healers were working magic on Pittsburgh's public access channel. He had the closed captions on. I cannot imagine what he had been watching the night before when he turned to that chanell originally.
"Were you watching the faith healers?" I asked, to wake him up.
"Of course not. I was resting." How he managed to not only sleep through the night with a light shining in his eyes and his legs straight up the wall but also keep sleeping through the morning sunlight streaming into his face from the kitchen window will never cease to amaze me.
By the time I got out of the shower, he was sitting up in bed staring into space. "Decompressing," he told me. He was mentally preparing to get up and be functional. I ate breakfast, packed my lunch and kissed him goodbye, wondering how he can be so gosh darn cute and so freaking weird all at one time. I wouldn't have him any other way.
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2 comments:
and he is all yours:+)
why does he like the loveseat better than the futon? surely he'd fit better on a futon....can you switch them and he wouldn't notice? faith healers, huh? were they on bicycles?
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