Nighttime at Cunningham's

I understand that an art blog ought to be only about ART, and realize that in my last blog post I was in the middle of a tale of my childhood art influences. I promise I'll return to that story, but occasionally I will interrupt artistic musings with a glimpse into current real life. This is one of those interruptions. Hope y'all don't mind.

Last night I woke up around 2:30 am feeling really hungry. I went into the kitchen and tore a piece of bread off the loaf of ciabatta bread left over from dinner. I climbed back into bed in the dark next to my sleeping husband, whom I’ll call “Poor Husband Is Loved”, or PHIL for short.

ME: *Bites into bread. Realizes it’s garlic flavored.* “Hm.”

PHIL: *Rolls over in bed* “What’s up?”

ME: “This ciabatta bread has garlic in it. Want some?”

PHIL *Long pause*“Wait. You’re eating?...No, no thanks.” *Gets up and wanders into bathroom*

ME: *Finishes bread and leans across to drink water which PHIL has on table by his side of bed*

PHIL: *Pads back from bathroom, stops next to bed*

ME: “I had some of your water."

PHIL: "Oh?"

ME: "Yes.That’s the good news”

PHIL: “Did you drink it all? Is that the bad news?” *Picks up water glass.*

ME: “No, but I spilled some”

PHIL: *Takes drink* “Is THAT the bad news?”

ME: *Snorts with not well-suppressed laughter* “Nope.”

PHIL: *Climbs into bed.*

ME: *Giggling helplessly* “I spilled it on your side. THAT’S the bad news.”

PHIL: "Sigh."

ME: *Continues to break out in giggles well into the early morning.*

PHIL: “Sigh.”