For a long time the girls and I tried to outdo each other in the “I love you more than…” department at bedtime.
We’d compete for the biggest, most numerous thing to which we could compare our love. i.e.
I love you more than all the leaves in all the forests.
I love you more than all the grains of sand at the beach.
I love you more than all the stars in the universe.
Lately it’s been fun to consider some less-than-nice equivalents.
I love you more than all the dust mites living in your pillow.
I love you more than all of the wet and stinky bathing suits in the lost and found at the swimming pool.
I love you more than all the bruised bananas in all of the grocery stores in all the world.
The first time I did this with Sarah she stopped to think about it, turned to me and gave me one of those HOLD ON A SEC looks. And then she smiled.
It’s part insult when you think of it, but the girls and I always end up laughing. As you can imagine, when we’re doing this our choice of phrasing descends into toilet humour faster than you can say “monkey poop.”
