I stepped out of character the other day and decided to do some housework. I was putting clean sheets on Gabriella's bed and found her room to be much too quiet. I got out her collection of CDs (at three years old she may have more CDs than her parents) and picked out the dreaded Evil Songs Which Get Stuck In My Brain. And there I was, singing away and making the bed.
I guess a grown woman listening to such evil attracts attention, because in popped hubby's head, obviously worried about the health of his wife, and questioned my sanity. "I can't help it", I said. "It's growing on me."
My dear husband of 11 years then looked at me sadly, paused and said, "I think we should see other people."