I'm Putting this Shit on the Internet

Scene: Master bedroom. Husband and wife are preparing for bed. He lays in bed and fiddles with his iPod. She collapses next to him, face first into her pillow, laying on her hands. There's pillow talk about aching backs and life insurance policies and NO IT'S YOUR TURN TO PUT OUT THE GARBAGE. Before he turns off the light, he sets down his gadget and turns to his wife.


Him: [Poking his finger at her shoulder.]

Me: [Muffled, talking into pillow.] What. The. Hell...are you doing?

Him: [Still smushing her shoulder with his finger.] Your skin looks funny here.

Me: [Raising her head to look.] What do you mean it looks funny?

Him: [STILL FUCKING POKING] It's all wrinkled...and splotchy...

Me: [Slapping his hand away.]

Him: It looks like the heads of the aliens on that show...Alien Nation, I think it was?

Me: [Rolls over to face him.] Fucking Alien Nation? THOSE ARE FRECKLES ON MY SHOULDER.

Him: I know...I'm just saying...

Me: [Shaking head in disbelief.] This moment must be, like, the EXACT OPPOSITE of the time John Mayer was inspired to write that song...Your Body is a Wonderland.

Him: [Smirking.] Wife. You're bringing John Mayer into this?

Me: [Drops face back into pillow.] I'm putting this shit on the Internet.