I'm learning to live without breathing.

The DNB breaks wind in bed!

This is in direct violation of The Rules: no farting at the dinner table, in bed, or while I'm trapped in a moving vehicle. Not that he cares.

"I'm getting up," he announces.

"To get me another glass of wine?" I ask hopefully.

"Heck no, to let that fart air out. That thing is EVIL. How do you not smell that?" he asks incredulously.

"How?" I answer simply. "The very Grace of God."