So this morning I stumbled into the bathroom (I have an incredibly reliable internal alarm clock ~ OhmyGodIGottaPee! ~ that never fails to urge me out of bed in the morning), bleary eyed and barely functioning. As usual.
My husband was not in my bed when I rolled out of it, but as I was draining the batteries on my internal alarm (Well, how else am I supposed to describe it? It’s like Niagara Falls. Seriously…), I heard footsteps outside the bathroom door.
A moment later (stiiiilllll peeing), Hubby’s head popped in.
“I wondered where you were,” he said.
“Mrf…” was my (typically A.M.-eloquent) response.
He looked at me and… How can I describe this look? Hmmm… Let’s just say a scene from Bambi comes to mind. What was the word Flower used to describe it?
Twitterpated. That’s the word. He’s absolutely twitterpated.
“Mnuh…” I say.
( I don’t speak English in the morning. It’s a good thing he understands Feverish.)
“You look so cute sitting on the toilet, hon.”
I blinked. (I wish this site had emoticons. There is no way I can tell you what my face must have looked like upon hearing this news.)
I am still cracking up!
In the event you were wondering about my Mister… We celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary this month, and let’s just say…
The man adores me. Even while I’m peeing.
It is moments like these that define our marriage.