I have a very forgiving and tolerant husband.

For one thing, he told me last night that he essentially plans on the possibility of me waking him up when I come to bed and having an hour and a half long conversation with him about even more word nuances than I listed in an entry previous, stray exegesis involving [livejournal.com profile] oneironaut's mighty bitchslap, the murderous tendencies of small blue penguins, and whether or not the cats were a topic or an interruption, before drifting off into vagaries of the structures of the temple bureaucracies in ancient Egypt.

We have a stuffed penguin gotten from the Boston Aquarium (they said we couldn't take them home! They lied!) which lives on the back of the bed and saw fit to powerdive [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan in the middle of the conversation. He said I'd set the penguin on him; I pointed out that had I done so, I would have done a much better job of it. Which, of course, got us onto the subject of ninja penguins, which I thought would please [livejournal.com profile] lstone.

Other good lines include "It's nice sometimes that you can read my mind, but it can be really obnoxious", because [livejournal.com profile] vectorvillain would be very mad. And the giggle discussion, which went something like:
    "Are you done giggling now?"
    "I think so."
    ". . . I'm not sure I am."
    *laughter*
    "Oh, now you're cackling."
    "Do we have to go through stages?"
    "Well, there's . . . denial. . . ."
    "No, skipped that one. . . ."

And no matter what [livejournal.com profile] teinedreugan says: Not Cute.
.

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