Wednesday night passed into Thursday morning before we crawled up the stairs to our attic bedroom. Fatigue dragged at us, as we contemplated our stupidity at staying up so late on a work night.
Flopping into our king-sized bed, Jeremy pulled the covers over himself, burrowing down until only the top of his face was exposed.
"Comfy?" I asked, as I still stood by the edge of the bed.
"Yep!" he said.
"Ready?" I asked. Stupid question, since I know he falls asleep mid-flop and is usually completely unconscious when his head hits the pillow.
"Huh?" He said. Huh. He answered. Must only be half-asleep this time.
So I shut off the light throwing the room under a blanket of pitch black darkness. Apparently the street lamp that usually shines into our room wasn't working. Using my hands I located the hubby within the miles of bed, and amongst the many layers of covers. Too bad we were both too tired to enjoy the groping. Elbowing the sleeping bear next to me, I said, "Hey, you didn't kiss me goodnight, yet!" I could sense he rolled towards me, so I rolled towards him.
"Marco," He said.
"Polo," I said, and then laughed right before I planted a big one on his forehead.
At least, I hope it was his forehead.
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