![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Mar. 17th, 2011 12:15 amTired me.
Cold tired me.
I had cold feet. I was tired. I could not fall asleep with cold feet. My wife was sleeping. Putting cold feet on my wife is Very Bad. Getting them too close, only marginally better.
So, I decided to go downstairs to warm up. I went down to the living room, lay down on the soft comfy sofa, tucked my lower half (feet included) under one of the nice warm small red fleece blankets we have, turned on some cartoons...
and ate ice cream.
In my defense, I plead that it was Christina's malted chocolate ice cream, but still.
Cold tired me.
I had cold feet. I was tired. I could not fall asleep with cold feet. My wife was sleeping. Putting cold feet on my wife is Very Bad. Getting them too close, only marginally better.
So, I decided to go downstairs to warm up. I went down to the living room, lay down on the soft comfy sofa, tucked my lower half (feet included) under one of the nice warm small red fleece blankets we have, turned on some cartoons...
and ate ice cream.
In my defense, I plead that it was Christina's malted chocolate ice cream, but still.
