The writer gets the last word.
Because in the middle of the night, he’ll twine his fingers around mine and kiss my shoulder in his sleep.
Just FYI, this infection is knocking me out. I may need Last Rites. I suggested to Little One that it is really a tumor, but she doesn’t believe me. She’ll be sorry when I’m gone. P.S. She’s back at home. Today.
I’m going back to bed.
Oh Suburban, I didn’t think of that! 
(No, you wouldn’t, SC. You’d think it was another mouse. Admit it.)
Angelawd, I’m pleased to meet you; we have a lot of mutual friends, I see! I like your blog’s sunny outlook — and here you’re not even feeling well. I’m looking forward to visiting again.
Nice to meet you Kalynne! Glad you’re here!
hope you feel better soon
Copyright © 2007-2009 All Rights Reserved. The content on these pages may not be used or reproduced in any manner without consent.
Hang in there!
And I would immediately wake my husband up and demand, “Who were you just dreaming about?”