do I amuse you?

When I saw Hubby designing a temporary logo for a friend, who sadly is moving back to the east coast this month, I suggested to him that we drive our friends belongings to N.Y. for her and make a fun trip of it.
"Think of what a relief ... and-and the money it will save her - let alone how fun that will be teehee!" I blurted out from the edge of the couch as I clapped my hands.
He just shook his head, flashed me a loving smile, laughed and said "Sometimes you're really funny baby". I just sunk back, laying deep in the couch and kicked my foot lightly against his leg to get his attention. "How am I funny...like a clown?"

I stood up in front of him and played Mirror for a minute, which I like to do as it affords Hubby a moment of dark entertainment, where I change my voice to what I assume the voice of his thoughts to be, and I tell him what random bits of negatives and logicality are streaming thought his mind. When I was done revealing his lack of spontaneity he could detect the serious tone in my manner and touched upon some of his "thoughts" only to back them up and shed light on the absurdity of my idea: "Baby, do you really want to be responsible for all of her belongings?" Perhaps he evens me out so they say...but why does it have to hurt and why do I have to be made normal according to all of you whom I care nothing about (the general public I mean)?

"I'm going to bed" I said and left the room to walk through the comforting darkness, not turning on any lights so that I could feel my way through the rooms and to bed, where I felt around for spiders before climbing in. Then I imagined the house in my photograph again, but instead of breaking into it I wanted to go down the road to see what was at the other end of it.