Last night, my poor Dr. Krog gave in to three late nights in a row and fell asleep around 7:30pm. I shlepped around the house, coughing uncontrollably, waiting until I could fall asleep, too. At one point, I plopped down on the bed to watch some Scrubs, and the sleeping Krog rolled over and said to me:
Neither one of us knows what that means.
Later on, when I was getting ready to go to bed, he opened one gluey eye and said:
Oh, hey. I had a dream that you were a walrus.
That sounds inconvenient, I said.
No, it was alright. I was a turtle, he answered.
I am constantly charmed by my life.