damn you, sci-fi channel
"I wonder if it's possible to have sex in zero gravity," he said, all serious at 2 a.m.
These are the issues that keep my husband - and thus, me - up at odd hours. Sure, I've been unable to sleep many nights, leaving my mind to wander over such inane questions as "why is jessica simpson a star?" but i tend not to blurt them out when he's in some deep slumber.
so, rather than actually have gravity-assisted sex (for by then, i was wide awake and something should be entertaining me at that hour), he continued.
"i think it would probably be difficult. obviously you can't get any traction."
"traction is important. you know that, right?" he continued, posing a question (unlike my jessica simpson query) that could actually be answered.
"yes, traction does have it's merits," was my muttled response. "i promise not to laugh at you again the next time you have to stop to grab your shoes for added resistance only if you promise to warn me you're going so i don't fall ass first off the side of the bed again. now...can i try to go back to sleep?"
"i suppose you'd have to strap yourself down somehow. maybe tie yourselves together," he continued.
for a moment - maybe 10 - i was unable to answer, thinking about someone from my past who, in all his gravity-filled goodness, loved to test that theory out with me.
"i guess i'm never going to know, huh?" he repeated (perhaps for the fourth time), busting me out of my silk scarf and blindfold moment.
just like i'll never know the answer to the questions that plague me about jessica s., i thought.
"no, but maybe tomorrow we can consider the ramifications of wormholes and the benefits of going back in time," was my consolation.
time that could get me my lost hour of sleep back...or perhaps another long weekend complete with scarves.