This morning's conversation...

Todd has been working doubles all week. (Fortunately today is his last one until next Tuesday. We're headed to Scranton and New York with the Schwass' for the long weekend! Can't wait!)

Because of these doubles, our full interaction has been a short 5 minute morning routine of: kiss goodbye, brief talk while T's eyes are still closed, me saying things like "have a good day. Do you need me to take that $$ to the bank? I'm going to the gym later. Don't forget to let Whinnie poop. I love you." etc. etc. while T aimlessly mumbles back something about "mmphave a good day too...she always poops...no bank. work out. love you."

And then the short evening routine, which, if I'm still awake involves: Whinnie barking like a mad dog as Todd puts his key in the door, Whinnie immediately there after peeing on the floor in excitement of seeing T for the first time in 14 hours, followed by kissing hello, 3-5 minutes of TV, asking Todd how his day was, him telling me how much $$ he made, me turning off the TV while he's standing directly in front of it catching the last second of whatever awful show I'm watching, both of us turning off all the lights, climbing the stairs to bed, kissing goodnight, and passing out.

However...more recently, I have been having a hard time trying to stay awake waiting for T to get home. So I have been climbing the stairs to the bedroom alone, and closing my eyes to the sound of Alton Brown & Good Eats (you KNOW he's on every single night) while attempting to stay semi-awake so that I can perform at least 1/3 of our usual nightly routine (ask how his day was and kiss goodnight) with my eyes closed.

But apparently sometimes I'm so tired that my body goes to sleep, while my mind stays awake.

Hence this morning's conversation:

(As I'm kissing Todd goodbye this morning) Me: "Have a good day honey, love you!"
T: (still with eyes closed) "We had an interesting conversation last night"
Me: "We did? About what?"
T: "I'm not really sure what you meant, but you kept saying 'Whinnie's the only dog here! She's the only dog in the house!'"
Me: "What does that mean??"
T: (yes, eyes still closed)"I have no idea! I almost wrote it down...but then I knew I would remember this morning. You just kept insisting 'She's the only dog here!'"
Me: "Well...she was the only dog in the house last night..."
T: "yeaaahhh....Have a good day, honey..."

Maybe my sub-conscious was actually so excited for Todd to be home that I was performing a rap song in my sleep.

Don't be surprised if I top the charts with that one in the next few months. And clearly I will title my album "The only dog here!" to the tune of Larry Pratt's (American Idol) "Pants on the ground".