this one's for you, babe

I've got this husband.

And when I got him, I also got a lot more musical instruments just strewn about.
Which is fine with me, by the way.

And our feet all seem to get along, which is a bonus.
They even get along with paws.

One of our favorite things to do is to write music together.

And then play it for other people.

I'm good at coming up with songs; he's good at making my songs better.

He's good at putting chords together I would never think of; I'm good at throwing words on top of those chords, strung together by a melody.

And something else we've made, too--a solution, of sorts.

One we came up with a long time ago.

It's necessary when you combine someone like me, whose inner monologue jumps ahead to any potential dialogue, trying desperately to avoid anything that could possibly make myself or anybody else feel awkward with someone like him, who loves, laughs, and speaks freely.

So.

If one or the other of us does not like what the other is doing or saying, we pinch their elbow. Discreetly.

Like a ninja.

Only we can wear normal clothes.

And leave the throwing stars at home.

Now I just came across a picture I had made sure to get but then promptly forgotten about. The picture is funny because Drew happens to think the phrase is pretty darn funny. And yes, uses it from time to time.
So here you go, Drew; this is for you.

And look, I am not even pinching your elbow.

But I am wondering if you've ever been to Maine with a can of pink spray paint in hand.