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.”
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.