A Pun is the Highest Form of Humor

I just wanted to share one of the 10 million reasons why I am so head over heels for Carey. This conversation is taken from memory, as much as possible, from last night as we lay in bed:

Ron: I’m really excited about writing again. I’ve had a story idea running through my mind all weekend.

Carey: You should write about that dream you had last week where I had shark DNA.

Ron: Ummmmmm. . . I don’t think so. That story would . . . bite.

Carey: No seriously, babe, I think it’s something people could really . . . sink their teeth into.

Ron: Nah – that story would be too . . . deep . . . for most people.

Carey: No need to be so . . . crabby . . . about it.

Ron: Sorry. I . . . . eel . . . badly now.

Carey: Holy mackerel. That was bad!

Ron: Watch it, you’re sailing into murky waters now.

Carey: So you should stop . . . floundering . . . with these bad puns.

Ron: What? You think I should just roll over and hide in my shell?

Carey: ~groans~ Go to sleep!

Ron: Ok. Remind me tomorrow morning that I have to . . . tuna . . . piano at my parents house.

Carey: ~laughing~ Who DOES this?

Ron: Just us.

Carey: Goodnight, sweetheart.

Ron: Good night honey. ~reaches over and scratches her back~ Is your back . . . urchin?

Carey: I’m begging you to stop!!!!

Ron: Ok – don’t be crabby.

Carey: I already said that.

Ron: No you didn’t.

Carey: Yes I did, now please, please, please, let me go to sleep. ~kisses me and gives me the “or else” look~