Garth Brooks: The Thunder Rolls

The sound of rain was another story compared to thunder. The loud booms startled me every time they'd happen.

"Mark, I can't sleep," I shook my husband up from his slumber. "It's another storm," I huffed.

Mark turned his head to look at the clock. "It's 1:30," he chuckled, grabbing me and pulling me in. "I'll," he brushed my hair back with his hand. "Make you some hot chocolate, and we'll watch a movie, and make sure not to wake our child up."

"Chica is our do-"

"Child."

We both got up from the bed, and I felt like I had cemented feet that didn't want to leave the ground. I sat down in a chair waiting for the hot beverage to come my way. "It smells good," I smiled.

He chuckled. "Do you want whip cream?"

"Yes please."

"Coming right up," he put whip cream onto the hot drink. "Here you are Mrs."

"Thank you," I smiled, sipping the beverage.

"So," he clasped his hands together. "'The Rescuers' or 'The Rescuers'?"

"How about 'The Rescuers'."

"Eggsellent."

I have a goofball of a husband. "You're too silly."

"I know," he chuckled, grabbing my hand to take me back to the bedroom.

The movie had started and my body wad pressed against Marks in a cuddling position. "Mark baby?"

"Hm?"

"Remind me to do you a favor some day," I gave his cheek a peck.

"You do me a favor every time you give me a kiss," Mark grabbed my chin, pulling me into a real kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," I giggled, settling back down.

Short, I know.