I'm taking a time out from my hardcore crafting spree to share something funny that happened the other day.
Scene set: It's 7am and the alarm clock has just been snoozed. Patrick and I are half cuddling, half asleep. Everyone knows morning gas is completely innocent, and so at this time of day it usually sounds like a couple of whales are having a lively conversation with each other in our bedroom. Not to break routine, I rip a pretty impressive contribution to the cause.
Patrick: Hmmmm? As he reaches with his free arm and places it on my hip. Hmmm?
Me: .....
Patrick: What? He barely mumbles through sleepy, lazy lips, and shakes me a little with the hand he has on my hip, to get my attention.
Me: ............
Patrick: Did you said something?
Me: No......
Patrick: I thought you said, "Babe".
Me: I just farted really big, maybe that's what you heard.
Patrick: ........Taking a minute to process exactly what that meant......
Me: I farted and you thought I was talking to you!!! You must have been REALLY sleepy!
Us: Both awake now, we giggle at the ridiculousness of the transaction, then cuddle a little closer, because feeling comfortable enough to be gross with each other is really just another form of intimacy.
And while we're on the subject of whales, here's a little something I painted for the studio.
People who have never been to The House of Blues may not appreciate the highly imaginary but simplistic style of art it represents, like one of the doctors at work who totally thinks I'm a werid-o after seeing this, but I love the way it turned out.
This is the kind of stuff that's in my head.
Some people have asked me why the little black birds have umbrellas. They are flame retardant umbrellas so they can fly safely under the fire, of course. Come on people, use your noggins!
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