Two weekends ago we went to my sister's house for my other sister's birthday. I didn't have any boxes laying around to wrap the present so I recycled a cupcake box I had been hoarding. I wrote all over it, things like, "Recyled box = save the earth = me good person" and "Look, leftover icing". I gave it to Boy 2 to hold while we drove to the party. I glanced in the back seat to see his little tongue darting out to lick just below the "Look, leftover icing" lettering. I told him to stop it so he gave the box to Boy 1 who also gave it a good lick. Hmm, is it wrong to give your sister a box of saliva for her birthday? What if I didn't tell her, is that better? Or, what if I did tell her the next day when I asked her to take a picture of the box for my blog? She said she had already thrown out the box so my reader(s) would have to take my word for it. I asked her to just take a picture of herself in a dramatic representation of the box. She still hasn't sent it. Maybe it's still coming. Or, maybe she didn't like my little box 'o bacteria. That makes more sense.
Last weekend PHD and I went to Vancouver. We do this thing when we get on an airplane. "Do you want the window seat?" "No, it's okay, you have it." "Are you sure?" until I get impatient and take the window seat. Then he spends all of takeoff and landing leaning way too far into my personal space to look out the window. As we were landing in Vancouver, it occured to me that he might not like spit, either. So I waited until he leaned way too far into my personal space bubble and I stuck out my tongue which banged into his eyebrow. I can't take full credit for the idea, I read it in a blog on what to do in awkward social situations. This suggestion captured my fancy. My thought was sticking out your tongue could be like a personal space meter. If you are so close to me that you get nailed when I stick out my tongue, you are too close. Reasonable, right? Except he thought it was funny so he kept leaning in and back going, "Whoo, whoo". Not at all weird. Also very disappointing as he was still in (and out of and back in) my personal space as well as giving me a bit of motion sickness. (As background, he had just minutes before adopted a t-shirt slogan as his new personal mission statement: "Fighting always works". It was probably a UFC shirt but I suspect PHD's interpretation of it will affect our marriage in many ways, none good.)