Before you ask, I must assure you I did NOT place it over his face, on account of him being worth much more to me alive than dead.
“Babe,” I ask, “you ok?”
He mutters something unintelligible, but it sounds like “Mm MMMZZZMM!”
Flinging back the covers off my boiling self, I tuck them around him. “You cold?” I ask, knowing well the answer. Our bedroom temperature has plummeted to a chilling 68°F (20°C). Naturally, I expect there to be ice on the inside of the windows.
As ever, I am a veritable living, breathing space heater in search of even a sliver of coolness on my side of the bed. All to no avail.
“Why is there a pillow on your head? It’s not even light out yet.”
Lifting the edge of his pillow, he says, “You do know we lose half our heat through our heads? I’m trying not to die of heat loss.”
I can’t help but snort at that as I blot my forehead with the hem of my night gown. “Dude, that’s a myth,” I say. “It’s roasting in here.”
“Are you CRAZY??” He asks for about the millionth time this month. (Let’s be honest. It’s not a REAL question if he already knows the answer, is it?)
Just then, his phone alarm springs to life, and he fumbles to silence the water-zen melody. Thirty seconds later, the song continues. In the end, HH reboots his Samsung Note 3 to shut it up. (I would love to point out that my iPhone 6s Plus NEVER crashes, but that would just be mean.)
“Turn that fan off, woman!”
“Seriously,” I say, reaching across to turn the fan off, “you need to wear more clothes to bed!” HH is, for the record, shivering inside a hoodie, t-shirt, shorts and joggers. This is beside the point. “You can aways wear more,” I say. “I can only take off so much.”
He grumbles, returning his pillow to its preferred location atop his head. After a few seconds, he fires his parting shot: “It’s so cold in here even my phone froze…”
I knew it was coming. I laugh anyway…
HH getting ready to face another day at the office captain america ice sculpture: The Nerd Filter
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