Faux Jitters

Don (as he's getting dressed for work this morning): You know what? I've just realized that I don't think I can go through with this. (evil grin and snickering ensues)

Me (sleepily raising an eyebrow in bed): You obviously want to die a slow, horrible, painful death (a gentle, loving goodbye kiss follows from tall, scary boy...the wonderful man I'm marrying this Saturday)

*goes to look for more tissue*