Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

Warning. The following post will include the word 'vagina' many many times. If you are offended by that word or the concept of vaginas, you might want to pass. Scene: Bedtime

me: Are you sleeping?

Crockett: Yes.

me: I'm glad you're home.

Crockett: Me too.

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me: Do you think that cavewomen had tough vaginas?

Crockett: Why would you ask me that?

me: Well. I was just thinking that I don't think they wore underwear, and maybe they got sunburned and stuff, and their vaginas became more like the soles of feet.

Crockett: I don't think so.

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me: What about when they would sit on the ground next to the fire? Do you think they got vaginas full of dirt?

Crockett: Stop thinking about it.

me: Vagina full of dirt. Ha. I'm going to start a new blog called Vagina Full of Dirt.

Crockett: Please don't.

me: Or a band. That would be a great band name. The Vagina Full of Dirt.

Crockett: I'm going to sleep now.

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me: You know the 'if I should die before I wake' prayer?

Crockett: Yeah.

me: What if I die in my sleep and my last words on earth were vagina full of dirt? How would I explain that when I got to heaven? They'd look me up in that book and be all 'are you sure you're supposed to be here?'

Crockett: There's a last words book?

me: Probably. Anyway. Goodnight, I love you.

Crockett: Love you too.

How lucky is he, really?

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