Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Fixable

A lazy, half-asleep conversation last night in bed:

P/H: Wow, we’ve been together over eight years. Do you still love me?

LWI: Mm-hmm.

P/H: It hasn’t gotten old?

LWI: Nope. I’d need to replace my underwear after eight years, but not you.

P/H (pondering this comparison): What if I got holes?

LWI: Holes?

P/H: Like your old underwear.

LWI (pause for thought, then a cheerful conclusion): ...Patches!

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