Spock May Have Shot My Wife...
It's 10:24pm on a weeknight. I'm lying in bed and I can't stop staring at my wife. She's fallen asleep with her glasses on and she's holding her book open on top of her chest. It's almost as if Spock set his Phaser to "Stun" and fired it at her while she was reading. She is passed out cold. I know this because she is breathing like an old, asthmatic dog and she hasn't moved a muscle in about ten minutes. My marriage is great. I know my marriage is great because I can sit next to her in bed and listen to her breathing like an old, asthmatic dog and I don't want to punch her face. Honestly I don't. On the other hand, if you were lying next to me in bed, breathing like an old, asthmatic dog, I would most certainly want to punch your face. Of course I would resist, because I wouldn't want to risk waking my children. Instead, I would suffocate the life out of you with one of my hypoallergenic throw pillows. I can't tell you how mesmeriz...