Teamwork.

Laying in bed last night--

Me: Can you take my sock off with your foot?

Josh: Trying trying.

Me: It might help if you go from the back.

Josh: Oh, that wasn't the back?

Me: No, that was the front.

Spit bath.

It late, way late. We are in bed but we are not asleep. We lay quietly for the first few minutes, then we begin discussing how we have missed our windows. Windows-- those times at night when you come down from the day, you are drowsy and you don't have to fight consciousness to fall asleep. On this night we are fighting, we are fighting our mind and our chemical buzz. We've missed our window so we just lay restless, side by side. Then, the next thing I know the side of my face is wet. Moistened like a slug trail. You licked me! You closed the area between our sides and licked the right side of my face. Next my arm is wet, then my neck, then my stomach. You are a thorough one too. By the end of this little dance you have gotten my legs and my back as well. I am a damp heap tangled in sheets, heaving from giggle so much. I try to dry myself off, stealing your shoulders and arms for my towel. I bet I'm not the only one who smells like spit now.
Mind you I am not completely innocent. This game started awhile ago with a tiny little flick of my tongue on your chin and cheek. But now, now you've taken it to the next level. Now you are in it for war. And you just wait, because baby I win. I will win. When you least expect it you will be splattered. Just remember, I know where you sleep.

Tonight's message.

Message tonight for the planet Schizo: JOSH LOVES MAGGIE.

He is the voice that you hear.

The other night we were going to sleep. We had taken a nap earlier, therefore neither one of us when right down for the count. There we are laying side by side. Its quiet and then you make a noise. The child of a grunt and a moan, a groan. You say that was a message for those that live on the planet Schizo. I say, "Is that near Phrenia?" You say, "Why yes, that is the capital." You say those people on the planet Schizo, with the capital of Phrenia, "They hear voices." And I just lose it. We are there laying in bed, laughing, because your groans at night serve a higher purpose, they are the voices in the heads of an imaginary race on the planet Schizo, with the capital being Phrenia.