I don't know when it happened.
Some time between 2008 and 2012 Andy's OCD seeped into my pores and now we share it.
Four days ago, I
Andy and I stayed up hiking twin beds, queen mattresses, box springs, headboards, footboards, side tables, couches, and more toys than I care to discuss down hallway after hallway and into new dwellings well into the night.
We were both driven like marathoners on mile 25. It was going to happen or else we'd drop in a sweaty heap of granola bars and water bottles trying.
Finally we managed to call it a night with a real deal play room in lieu of a guest bedroom. Unless of course, our guests are three feet tall with a penchant for canopies.
It's only been a few days but I can feel the wallpaper in my mind smooth instead of crinkle. The carnal sound waves driving into our ear canals have softened and become muted hymns of children playing.
On another floor altogether.
Way far away but Leave It to Beaver close enough to mix lemonade and eavesdrop at the same time.
It's how sanity must sound.
Sweet Reward, how I've missed it so.