Best Not Try Any Of The Pineapple

| Romantic | February 28, 2016

(My husband tends to talk in his sleep from time to time. This morning, I woke up to this particular gem. Note that neither my husband nor I like or have even purchased pineapple in the entire nine years we’ve been together.)

Husband: *mumbling incoherently*

Me: *waking up* “Huh?”

Husband: “Did you put the pineapple away?”

Me: *playing along, realizing this is another one of his sleep conversations* “Um, yep. Yep. I put the pineapple away.”

Husband: “Are you sure? You smell like pineapple.”

Me: “Yeah, I put it away.”

Husband: “Okay.”

(At this point, I figured that was that and started to drift back off again.)

Husband: “Why is there a micro-penis in the fridge?”

Me: *suddenly fully awake and trying desperately to stifle uncontrollable laughter*

Husband: “Hey, why is there a micro-penis in the fridge?”

Me: *now wanting to see where this is going* “I have no idea.”

Husband: “Did you know we had a micro-penis in the fridge?”

Me: “No, that’s news to me.”

Husband: “Oh, my mistake. It was a light switch.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Husband: “Do you know why the light switch looks like a micro-penis?”

Me: “No idea.”

Husband: “Hey. Are you sure you put that pineapple away?”

(Unfortunately, I will never know how the rest of that conversation would have gone, because he apparently inhaled some of my hair and woke up coughing and sputtering at that point. And no, he didn’t remember our conversation after he was awake.)

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