overheard in the boudoir

Darkness hangs over the room like an obligation.

He would be willing to get up and start his day now. She would not be a fan.

He stretches his legs. He readjusts the covers.

She tries not to get cranky at the commotion.

“I read a report that said one in four cell phones tested positive for poop germs,” he whispers.


“Poop germs!”


“It’s gross!” he explains.


“Angry Birds is NOT a laxative.”

“I *yawn* hear ya.”

Hoping he’s done, she rolls over and re-snuggles.

“You get all proud or something when the American national anthem plays,” he offers.

“I’m American.”

“Yeah. I don’t feel it.”

“You’re not American.”

“It’s like listening to Richard Marx to me.”

“Who is Richard Marx?”

“Quiet sob.”

“Did you just say ‘quiet sob’?”


The slightest traces of light sneak in around the blind.

“Hi,” he whispers.


“Do you think I can get away with saying I was bumping something in my whip?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I know… sad though.”

“That’s the exact word for it.”


“I’ll bump YOU in my whip. Mrrrowwrrrr,” he mumbles.

“Do you ever sit around and think about how lucky you are that I find you charming?”

“Frequently,” he nods.

He rolls over towards her and cuddles in.

“Babe…” she sleepywhispers.

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you just put your hand on my bum?”


“Then bed bugs are getting MUCH bigger.”

“Global warming,”


“Shhhhhhhhh. You’re sleeeeeepy.”


Interrupted finally by birds in the distance.

A car drives by. And not following any posted speed limit anywhere.

Silence again.

“Cute little girlfriend person…”


“My phone probably has poop germs.”

4 thoughts on “overheard in the boudoir

  1. haha. Your morning thoughts are like my bedtime thoughts. “Do frogs have ears? Or do they have sonar? You have 18 freckles on your shoulder. Remember that time we went to the cheese factory? That was great.”

    It’s probably for the best that I sleep alone now.

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