Earlier, I was unloading the dishwasher when I accidentally tapped the bottom of a glass with the edge of a metal, pancake turner. It made a great sound: like a bell, with long-lasting reverberation. I stood there for the longest time, tapping the glass gently with the pancake turner, when I looked up and met Jim's concerned gaze.
"You have lost your ever-loving mind," he said.
"Doesn't it make the greatest sound, though?" I asked.
"Uh, it wasn't bad the first three times," he said, then, "I should start my own blog and write about what it's really like to live with my wife."
(Jim would agree: I really need Cade to come home.)