I'm Worried I'm A Furry...

I'm Worried I'm A Furry...

So, things got weird in the bedroom last night.

My husband and I were snuggled under the covers, and Chris drifted asleep before I did. I lay drowsily content in his arms and was about two seconds away from entering the Land of Nod myself when my husband started softly snoring.

The sleepy serenade didn't annoy me. Instead, it sounded gentle and sweet and conveyed nothing but a sense of contentment.

I loved it. My man was happy even when freed from the bonds of consciousness, a realm that dictates he at least feign joy in my presence. And then, in my serene state, a thought flitted through my bliss-filled brain:

"Awwww. I must be doing something right, because he's purring."




Like, where do you even go from there?

The correct answer is you should go to your shrink.


That's the only acceptable option.

But I'd just been there earlier that day, and it was just before midnight, and I don't think my squishy-faced octogenarian psychiatrist would strap on his suspenders for a middle-of-the-night emergency session about how I mistook my husband for a cat.

Actually, as I type that, I realize that he might have made an exception.


True story: Life would be super swell if we all embraced our OMG side instead of living a Facebook-friendly existence. So, let it out. Have you ever mistaken your sexual partner for your pet? What's the weirdest thing you've thought in bed right before you fell asleep? I wasn't actually turned on by the perceived purring, so should I actually be worried? How wrong is what just happened? Seriously, y'all, tell me a weird story about yourself so I feel better about my latent furry tendencies. Feel free to disclose details. You're safe here.