Til' death do us part ...

Sometimes Clayton can beat me at my own game.  Last night was one of those times.

Setting: Our living room on Wednesday night.  Clayton is sitting in his arm chair watching TV. I am curled up with a blanket on the couch feeling sorry for myself because my PMS is an angry woman who hates everyone, especially men.

Me: “I think I’m dying.  In fact, I think I’m going to die in my sleep tonight.”

Clay: “Okay.”

Me: “Would you be devastated if you woke up tomorrow morning and discovered that I was dead?”

Clay: “I’d be super pissed if I woke up and discovered you were dead.  I don’t want to find out I was sleeping next to a corpse all night.”

Me: “Um … thanks.”

A few minutes of silence.

Me: “What would you do if I killed myself? Would you be devastated to lose me or pissed off because I was selfish enough to take my own life?”

Clay: “If you killed yourself, I would have to kill myself.”

Me: “Because you couldn’t stand the thought of living without me? Oh my gosh, honey! That is so sweet!”

Clay: “No. I would do it to one-up you.”

Me: “ … What do you mean?”

Clay: “Anything you can do, I can do better.”

 We’re going to be together forever.