The Shadow of Death Hanging Over My Head Has My Husband's Shape.

Steve and I are in the office, both sitting in front of our respective computers, drinking coffee.

Steve: We should take a vacation to the World of Warcraft headquarters someday.

Me: How would that be fun for anybody else but you?

Steve: For Christopher! We could take him, and he could meet some staff members and see what it's like to make video games.

Me: Okay.

Steve: Where are their headquarters?

Me: I would not know that.

Steve: Google it!

Me: You Google it.

Steve: Google it!

Me: You're sitting in front of your computer. You're the one that wants to know. You Google it.

Steve: GOOGLE IT. GOOGLE IT. GOOGLE IT. GOOGLE IT. GOO-

Me: Okay! *I Google it* It's in Irvine.

Steve: Where's that?

Me: South of Los Angeles.

Steve: He could go work for World of Warcraft when he grows up! We could go visit him a lot. On the way we could take a detour into Tijuana.

Me: Tijuana? You want to swing by Tijuana on the way to visit our son at his nice job in California?

Steve: Yes! We could buy prescription medication there for cheap!

Me: That's why you want to go to Tijuana? To buy medication? How old are you, Grandpa?

Steve: Well, by the time he gets a job there, that's all we'll be interested in. Our medication.

Me: *in my old lady voice* I WANT TO SEE A DONKEY SHOW!

Steve: *performs actual spit take.*