Like a Rock

Steve's head is hard. As in, hard as granite. Or maybe marble. Or diamond or titanium. Or maybe rhenium diboride. I have seen this man step out of the shower, slip on some water, smash his head into the doorjamb with enough force to shake the walls and get up complaining, my thumb hurts. (And complaining about my laughter as well, but to a lesser degree.)

We do this weird lion and antelope thing. I've already said that I know we're weird, but I feel the need to reiterate it before I go on. We're weird!

So last night I was preparing for sleep by reading in bed. I heard a noise and looked around. Nothing. Then I heard the LION growl. I looked around again just in time to see him flying through the air colliding his massive, titanium head into my face. He felt bad. He was just trying to pounce on my back and give me great sloppy lion-kisses before bed. He immediately got up and fetched me some aspirin. Came back and said, Oh crap, you've got a black eye! I got up and looked in the mirror only to see this:

This is how I always look, bonehead! Lion kisses + lack of sleep = dark undereye circles. Anyway, I slept good. I drifted off to dreamland thinking about the symptoms of a concussion. Good sleep is one of those, right? Nothing like head trauma to give you a good night's rest.
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On an unrelated note, my hyperlinks aren't showing up! It should just be a matter of changing the html code to a different color, but try as I might, I can't get it to work. Anyone want to help me? Puh puh puh please?

Deer in the Headlights

My husband and I are weird, yes I know this. We have this thing where we'll just be sitting together, minding our own business, or maybe he'll just walk through the room where I happen to be and then it happens. He turns into a deer in the headlights. He'll just look at me with this wide-eyed, terrified look and I'll know, I've got to chase him. He's the antelope, I'm the lion and I've got to catch him or die trying.

See? Weird, I told you.

So anyway, the other day, he was getting ready to take a nap (in between church services on Sunday...preaching really takes it out of you) when suddenly, I became the antelope. So I fly off the couch and start running with all my might when the lion suddenly leaps and tackles me on the floor of our recently emptied dining room. I landed hard on my hip and now have a ginormous bruise to show for it. Or not to show, I AM a little modest. I'd take a picture to share with the world if I weren't so dern modest...poor little antelope.