The dynamic at Brutalism HQ is that I tend to get a second wind around 10:00pm when the other members of my household are winding down from the day. This second wind often consists of me making up and singing a song in the most obnoxious voice I can muster or doing some sort of dance while brushing my teeth.
The other night, however, I deviated from the usual creative format to discuss an insight I had while perusing Next Door earlier in the day - that being if you are Jesse D. from Fox Mill's older child, you can simply print out the following ad and hand it, wordlessly, to your therapist.
That was not all that bothered me about this situation. Call me germophobic, but I firmly believe that bedwetting alarms (and breast pumps, FWIW) should be one-owner-only devices. I queried my husband, "If you are buying a used bedwetting alarm, aren't you effectively paying for someone else's pee?"
At which point he regarded me with very tired eyes and mumbled, "I don't want to have this conversation."
Last night, I was energetically delivering a reggae-style song about my feet which received no response from him. Frustrated, I inquired, "Nothing? No reaction? I'm selling it here."
To which he aggravatedly replied, "I'm half asleep" - and then under his breath added, "I wish I was fully asleep."
Happily ever after,