The other night as we were about to fall asleep, I was struck by a sudden creative brain wave full of ideas for my shiny new blog - what else? I grabbed for my iPhone with cat-like reflexes (ok, so I knocked it off the night table. Pregnancy has made me REALLY clumsy) and tried to get my ideas down before I could forget them. Because I am an exceedingly thoughtful wife, I was typing under the covers so the light from my phone wouldn't disturb my cherub of a husband. It turns out that this strategy wasn't as stealthy as I first thought. Jimmy soon rolled over.
Jimmy: What are you doing?
Jimmy: Why are you typing under the covers?
It does get tiresome trying to explain the basics of courteous bed time iPhone usage to those who are so impervious. Sigh. After some explanation of my under cover typing, a discussion of ideas I could use for the blog heated up. Some ideas Jimmy offered were good (can't you hardly wait to see what he came up with? Maybe you should subscribe!) and some not so much. For example, one idea involved flatulence and how best to deal with it. Not just any flatulence, but his own flatulence. Now don't get me wrong, bodily functions can be entertaining material, and other bloggers I admire make this their bread and butter (have you checked out Dooce?). But it is risky territory, especially for a first post. I pointed this out to Jimmy.
Me: Do you really want me to write about your farts on the internet?
Jimmy: Why not? It's not like you'll have any followers anyway.
Touché. Well played, James, well played. All I can say is he's going to be sorry when I tell my grandma about my blog. Next Sunday dinner could be a little awkward.
Who knew marriage would provide such stimulating late-night conversation? Not I.
|Everyone knows scarves and glasses are the most intellectual of accessories.|