Him: “Did you hear…?”
Me: Blink. Blink. Blink.
Him: “Apparently, there was this story on NPR about a Cocker Spaniel that likes to lick toes….”
Me: “Like Wendy’s dog?”

Wendy is the friend who introduced us, and when I stayed at her place, one of her dogs woke me up in the morning by getting under the covers and facing my feet and licking them like crazy (which is not something I enjoy, BTW).

Him: Blink. Blink. Blink.
Him: “Anyway, so they were getting off on it, like some kind of hallucinogen. You know how some toes give off…”
Me: “Fungus?”
Him: “…secretions that are like a drug. ”
Me: “Wait, did you say toes, or toads?”
Him: “I guess a lot of people liked that story. What?” Smacks himself on the forehead.

I blame the Santa Ana winds, blowing all kinds of crap, causing my head to fill with goo. Or else the fact that my husband doesn’t enunciate as well after a few drinks. Or I don’t hear as well.