There hasn’t been much to report lately. I’m so happy that Ian is home safe and sound, and I already feel the differences of my routine now that he’s back.
I’ve had a few semi-glorious days at work, simply because it has slowed down considerably from the past few weeks. I am actually able to maintain other side projects, and manage my seemingly un-manageable inbox.
Last night, Ian and I enjoyed a long overdue TV night. We caught up on about 5 shows, had a delicious Ian-prepared dinner, and just plain relaxed.
Ian fell asleep towards the end of the night on the couch. Now he knows how I feel. I think it was largely owing to the fact that for the first time in ages, he was actually laying on the couch with his head in my lap. It’s usually the opposite.
Anyway, he walked the walk of delirium to bed (which is normally what I do). And he’s just so funny. Especially when he’s sleepy.
I lit a candle because the bedroom smelled a little fishy (we had salmon and shrimp for dinner). He asked why I was lighting it…I told him, and he said:
“That’s not the reason it’s fishy.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” he said.
“Why does it smell like fish then?”
“Because of our new pet.”
“We have a new pet?”
“Yes,” Ian says. He’s smiling sleepily and crawling into bed.
“What is it?”
“A swordfish.”
“Oh yeah?” Where is he now?”
“Under the bed.”
“He is? Is he in water?”
“Yes.”
“Under the bed?”
“Yes.”
“In a tank or something?”“No. There’s just a little water under there.”
“Oh, like a puddle?”
“No,” he laughs, “he has a water bottle and it pours it on himself sometimes.”
“Oh. What’s his name?”
“You don’t know his name and he’s our pet? I can’t believe it!”
After the back and forth of “I can’t believe you don’t know his name and he’s our pet,” I finally got it out of him. His name is Sticky.
Sticky the swordfish. Ian fell asleep fast.
Thinking about Sticky this morning, I thought of if / when we have children, they will have the most robust imaginations available. Between me, my family, and Ian—well, creativity is covered.
If I personally were a swordfish, my name would be Louie.
I’ve had a few semi-glorious days at work, simply because it has slowed down considerably from the past few weeks. I am actually able to maintain other side projects, and manage my seemingly un-manageable inbox.
Last night, Ian and I enjoyed a long overdue TV night. We caught up on about 5 shows, had a delicious Ian-prepared dinner, and just plain relaxed.
Ian fell asleep towards the end of the night on the couch. Now he knows how I feel. I think it was largely owing to the fact that for the first time in ages, he was actually laying on the couch with his head in my lap. It’s usually the opposite.
Anyway, he walked the walk of delirium to bed (which is normally what I do). And he’s just so funny. Especially when he’s sleepy.
I lit a candle because the bedroom smelled a little fishy (we had salmon and shrimp for dinner). He asked why I was lighting it…I told him, and he said:
“That’s not the reason it’s fishy.”
“It’s not?”
“No,” he said.
“Why does it smell like fish then?”
“Because of our new pet.”
“We have a new pet?”
“Yes,” Ian says. He’s smiling sleepily and crawling into bed.
“What is it?”
“A swordfish.”
“Oh yeah?” Where is he now?”
“Under the bed.”
“He is? Is he in water?”
“Yes.”
“Under the bed?”
“Yes.”
“In a tank or something?”“No. There’s just a little water under there.”
“Oh, like a puddle?”
“No,” he laughs, “he has a water bottle and it pours it on himself sometimes.”
“Oh. What’s his name?”
“You don’t know his name and he’s our pet? I can’t believe it!”
After the back and forth of “I can’t believe you don’t know his name and he’s our pet,” I finally got it out of him. His name is Sticky.
Sticky the swordfish. Ian fell asleep fast.
Thinking about Sticky this morning, I thought of if / when we have children, they will have the most robust imaginations available. Between me, my family, and Ian—well, creativity is covered.
If I personally were a swordfish, my name would be Louie.
2 comments:
Ian got him in Canada. Illegal fish run.
I'm just saying...this is funny um...
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