The first one, not the second. Although he probably thinks the second. But I think I meant the first. Unless there's mac and cheese involved.
So, so happy I bought that chevron striped dress on my mental breakdown haircut day. Be prepared for last-nerve-fraying ramblings until Saturday when date happens. Now I have to figure out how one with a c1 and c2 laminectomy can make out with someone a foot taller than themselves without their brain falling out the back of their craniectomy. I think it would be a mood killer if I said " Instead of unhooking my bra, could you please push my cerebral tonsils back into my skull?"