I don’t know why, but I’ve been talking like a gangsta. Only to Steve, though. And he hates it. Out of blue I started telling him, “Deal with THAT, home dawg!” But I say it in this awful voice with really bad nasal congestion so it’s more like “Deal width DAT, Hobe Dawg!”

For some reason, when I am truly comfortable with someone, I start talking in a weird voice; different for each person. Steve and I have this little high-pitched voice the we use with each other. I don’t know how it started, but we can’t make it stop now. Kristin and I share a special still voice, too. If this blog was capable of holding audio clips, I would do a demonstration for you, my devoted readers. Count your blessings that it’s not. You big bunch of hobe dawgs.