weird in the morning

Tim doesn't think that he is weird in the morning, but I'm building documentation to prove otherwise.

Case in point:

This morning, Tim was in bed with the pillow covering half his face. "Look, Amanda," he says, "This pillow functions as my eye patch."

Then later, still in bed, one foot was exposed while the rest of his body was covered with a blanket. He says, "Call me Peg-leg Joe!" Later, when I called him Tim, he insisted I should call him Peg-leg Joe.

On my way to work I called and left him a voice mail about something. I said, "Hi Peg-leg" as a greeting. He apparently didn't get the message until he had gained sanity, because when I saw him again, he said he listened to it and thought "What the heck?"

Yes, Tim, you wanted to be a pirate this morning. I don't know why.

getting to know all about you . . .

Tim's sister April once said that the first year or so (or first stage) of marriage is all about getting to know each other. So far, we have found this to be true.

One morning recently, Tim had something on his face that I could've sworn wasn't there before. He also noticed it that morning. It appeared to be a blood blister sort of, without the blister part, or maybe a scab, which had appeared overnight. So I proceeded to do "surgery" on it, against Tim's will, and when it didn't go away, I thought, "I'll just have to get used to this version of Tim." This was a perplexing dilemma for me. I worried about it, as if learning how to love a person with a serious handicap.

Turns out it was a mole. And upon viewing pictures of Tim's face, it is evident that it has been there for some time. In fact, one of the earliest pictures I have of Tim (from May 24, 2008) includes this facial feature. (See above.)

Our conclusion is that we both noticed it because it was slightly enlarged due to some sort of pimple in the same location. That may sound gross, but admit it, faces are gross places. (Sort of.)