He knows I hate mornings.  Knows I can't stand conversation until I've been awake for at least an hour.  My morning routine has been the same since well before we knew one another.  Yet, every moring he pushes me; just to see how far he can go before our cozy little breakfast becomes a raging bout of homocidal mania.  The intimate details of our bliss, sprawled across the 6 o'clock news like a dime whore on nickel night..  I think it's a conspiracy.  It's the conspiracy of a happy morning person attempting to either slowly drive me mad, or destroy me.  Which one it is, I am just not sure.

Because of Mr. Sunshine and Roses, I've had to alter my habits a bit.  After I wake up, and pee and smoke, I put on my wooly socks and  ear muffs to go downstairs.  When the ear muffs are removed, it means he can reasonably expect that I'll be civil should he decide to speak to me.  However, this morning he broke the rules, and though I am a creature of habit, and am comforted by my regular schedule, sometimes things are meant to change.

"You know", he said looking at me indulgently, with that adorable half-smile of his, "You do some weird shit, but you may be the person I've fallen in love with."

"No", I said, correcting him, "You may be the person with whom I've fallen in love."

"Man, what a time to correct me.", he said with exasperation, "What did you do that for?"

Now I'm exasperated. He is after all, speaking to me while my ear muffs are still firmly attached to my head.  Perhaps he needs glasses?   Glaring slightly at him just over the top of my steaming cup of Earl Grey, "Not 'what did you do that for', it's 'why did you do that?  Or even, 'for why did you do that?' You could even say, 'for what reason did you do that?', but 'what did you do that for?  is never correct!  Never.'"  I said it a bit sharply, sort of scolding him.  I mean, ferchrissake he's an adult, and if he's going to speak to me even while my ear muffs are as plain as the nose on my face; he should at least use proper grammar.  Really, is that too much to ask?

"Oh.", he said, clearly not caring at all about the pains I was taking to help him end sentences in something other than prepositions,  "I only said all that cos I wanna fuck.", seeing my surprised expression, he smiled and a gleam lit his eyes, "I can't help it, you look sexy with those things on.  You want to?"

"Yeah, Baby", I said with a smile, knowing full well the joke I was about to make would be lost on one of us - but somehow that didn't matter now, "Let's get it on."  And then, "What are you going upstairs for?  We can do it right where we're at."
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