So, this blogpost has nothing to do with how funny and wise Sophie is or how cute and rascally Jameson is; this is how tired and crazy Stacy is. Frank keeps a list of conversations I have with him in my sleep. Apparently I'm prepping for big things in the near future. And I think my husband, totally awake and sober, is pretty funny, too.
Stacy: What happens if there's a miracle?
Frank: What do you mean?
S: If there's a miracle. Then what?
F: I guess we shout "Hallelujah"
S: No. I mean in general.
F: Like a garden-variety miracle?
S: No, not that kind of miracle. Like what happens?
F: I guess you say "Thanks God. Good one."
S: Not like that. Like a miracle. Like a thing thing. Miracle.
F: Amen.
S: My toes need to be covered.
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