Way back before B and I were married, back when we were
shacking up, living in sin, living together, he spent close to a year working in Mexico. He’d spend 8 weeks there, 2 weeks here. It was a long year.
Every time B came home, he’d say that he could tell I wasn’t cheating on him because his side of the bed was covered in reading materials. De-booking his side of the bed could take a while.
Turns out old habits die hard.
He’s been gone since Thursday, and his side of the bed is covered by:
- One Pearls Before Swine comic collection
- Colonel Roosevelt by Edmund Morris (I highly recommend it)
- Two Christian Science Monitors
- One The New Yorker (not visible because it’s buried under everything else)
I’d better de-book before he gets home tonight.