So my ex-brother-in-law got laid off about a month ago (FUCK YOU GEORGE BUSH) and has moved in with me for about a month or two. We’ll call him Earl.
The second night he was living with me, I was sick as all hell (this wasn’t long after I returned from San Fran) and I had walked to the kitchen to get a drink. As it was late, I was trying to be quiet and not wake him (we have converted my dining room into a makeshift bedroom for Earl). Obviously I wasn’t quiet enough when Earl said, “Everything alright, man?”
“No, sorry to wake you. I’m just getting a drink. I’m sick.”
“Can’t sleep?” He asked.
“Want me to come upstairs and be big spoon?”
“Okay, man. You need anything, you let me know,” Earl said, laughing.
Never a dull moment in my life.