Half drunk on fatigue, half drunk on soft coziness, crooning like croaking in my flat flat voice. Wild thing, you make my heart sing , going no further because the lyrics I knew ended there. And grinning you collapsed into sweet sleepy smiles. I was already miles away in good dreaming.

I don't know where he found it, but Jason used to sing this nasty song to me, driving down the highway. Go to sleep, you little ugly poodle, or Daddy will punch if you if you doooooon't. It was funny, it always worked; it always made me relax.

Becca says she knows things are going to be fine if her husband is humming loud tuneless things in front of the computer. I mean she knows that they are safe. Danny, her husband, says he keeps meaning to tape her singing in the shower. They laugh and laugh and laugh.

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