In bed, I’m trying to get comfortable. (And failing miserably.)
Bryan: Is there anything I can do for you?
Me: No, he’s just run out of room. So he’s kicking me in places it hurts to be kicked.
Bryan (placing hand on my tummy): Yep, I think I feel his fifth leg.
Me: …. is that the point we worry, then? When you feel his fifth leg?
Bryan: Well, a centaur doesn’t bother me. But a mutant centaur? Forget that shit.