Either We Know Each Other Really Well, or We're the Most Boring People Alive

The other night Jeff and I were in the late stages of coach potato syndrome (symptoms: slack posture, glazed eyes, rapid reflexive pressing of remote control buttons) when we came upon Miami Ink. We'd never actually seen an episode of this show. Jeff put down the remote and turned to me.

"Let's play a game," he said.

"Umm, okay." A game is not part of our standard evening repertoire.

"Think about what kind of tattoo you would get and where it would go. Then think of the same for me. Then we'll try to guess what each other was thinking."

It probably won't come as a surprise that neither of us has a tattoo. In fact, the thought of my straighter-than-an-arrow husband with a tattoo is very hard to summon. Nonetheless, I agreed. After a few minutes of pondering, we offered our guesses.

"Well, with you it has to be one of two things," he said.

What, am I that predictable?

"My first guess is a peace symbol."

Apparently, yes, I am that predictable.

"Okay, where would I have it then?"

He thought perhaps my shoulder, but then revised it my hip. Both of which were the two places I'd considered. Hmphh.

"And what was the other one?" I asked.

"I thought maybe a yin-yang."

This man knows too much about me.

"Okay, my turn! I'm thinking drum sticks for you."

"That's right," he said, laughing. "And where?"

"Shoulder?"

Bingo!

So, like I said, either we have this amazing insight into each other's soul or we're just criminally lacking in imagination. On second thought, it could very well be both.