Pillow Talk

Last night, my poor sweetie had an awful time getting off to sleep, mostly because I kept entering random fits of hysterics. Not over nothing, mind you, but because she was being funny. At one point, we had the following conversation:

Her: The kitten has an evil plot to kill me.

Me: This is true, yes. She's decidedly wicked.

Her: Do you know what would happen if I died?

Me: What?

Her: Not only would you be a widow, but you'd also be a homeless immigrant!

Then she proceeded to giggle nonstop for about a half hour. So it wasn't entirely my fault. Of course, I had to get my own back, but I didn't realize an opportunity would present itself quite so quickly.

We have this clock in our bedroom:

That strange circular part at the back isn't a government periscope, as you might understandably suspect at first; instead it projects the digits up onto the ceiling, so you don't have to roll over to see what time it is. In related news, we had a power cut earlier in the week, and I had yet to reset the clock.

I turned to her and said,

Me: Honey, look, it's 5:55 (the time it was displaying on the ceiling)

Her: Umf? (looks up) Maybe it's upside down.

Take a small moment to ponder that.

I'll wait.



Right-Side Up


Upside Down