“Want to get your fans really riled up?”

Chris raises his head and looks in my direction. He’s been playing with the new website mockup on the laptop for the past hour, fascinated by all the bells and whistles the web designer is suggesting. He seems just a little wary and I guess I can’t blame him. I haven’t really hidden my displeasure over some of his fans’ reaction to our miscarriage announcement. If it was up to me, he wouldn’t be re-designing the website, he’d be deleting it permanently.

There’s a sigh. “Why am I afraid to ask?”

I swing my legs up onto the couch, pressing my feet against his thigh. “Let me post that we don’t have a pre-nup.”

He gives me that look that says ‘You are insane’. He’s good at it, there’s just the slightest incline of an eyebrow and the barest hint of a frown. But then he’s had lots of practice, hasn’t he?

“Well, look at how nuts everyone is going over the K-Fed and Britney split. And Paul McCartney’s.”

“We aren’t getting divorced or separated,” he patiently reminds me. “At least I don’t think we are.”

“Oh we aren’t.” I wiggle my toes against his pant leg. “But imagine all the posts you’d get. Your counter would burn itself out.”

He waggles a finger at me. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh why not?”

“ No.”

“You’re no fun.” I pout.

“Just trying to save you from yourself, darling,” he says blandly.

He’s probably right. I would go in an post and start a big brouhaha, then sit back and complain when it backfired. Its nice to have a man who watches out for your best interests. Now if only I could figure out a way to distract him from that damn computer.

Hmmmmmmmm