Truth Serum

Joey and I bought a bottle of Pain Reliever P.M. at Target last night. Since I wasn't really able to sleep well two nights ago, we figured this was a prudent move.

I took my two pills at 9:15 and flopped into bed with my ice pack and heating pack, planning to alternate them at 10 minute increments. I made it through two rotations. Just before 10:00, I could tell that my judgment and overall sanity were becoming greatly impaired.

"Joey? I need to go to sleep?"

Joey came in from working on his paper. He removed my heating pad and ice pack and told me to go to sleep.

I tried.

But then, the Pain Reliever P.M. began working as a sort of Truth Serum. I began confessing to things that I'd done as a child, strange quirks that he (fortunately) still hasn't found out about, and all sorts of other things.

"I used to pick my nose. And eat it."

"GROSS!!!" Joey hollered, and sat up quickly. "Don't tell me any more of that. You're gross."

"I didn't stop until I was in high school."

Joey made some more disgusted noises and tried to stop me from continuing, but the ball was already rolling too quickly.

"I remember doing it all the way up until my sophomore year."

He made some comments about how he'd married the most disgusting woman and how he'd probably never kiss me--ever again.

"I can't do it anymore, though. It's way disgusting."

"Good." He sounded relieved, as though I'd really been picking my nose and eating it for the last year and a half.

I, fortunately, drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter. I didn't even have time to confess the time that I--wait; I'm not tellin' you nothing!

Be careful of that Pain Reliever P.M. stuff. You never know what it's going to make you say...