The other night, Mr. POTL and I were having a romantic night, playing Words with Friends from different rooms in the house. Sad? Yes. But necessary.
JJ now needs someone in his room until he falls asleep, so Mr. was in JJ’s room, playing his words, while I lounged on our bed, playing my words.
The situation itself seemed sad enough, but then I noticed our words.
A sample of Mr.’s:
A sample of mine:
I’ll leave it at that, but I think Freud might have something to say. Interpretations, anyone?