All nosy on the breakfast front

This morning, as John and I headed for the front door of Badly Decorated Bed and Breakfast, the breakfast saga got even weirder when the owners' personal trainer remarked that we weren't sticking around for breakfast for the second day in a row. Whaaaa? I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. My name is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. Seriously! When did it become a federal crime to refuse the breakfast portion of a bed and breakfast?

On the air mattress front, John didn't sleep well last night (understandably), which for John means that he talked in his sleep a lot. He woke me up at 4 in the morning wondering aloud what was on his face. He kept pointing at his nose and saying, "what's this??? What's this???" to which I replied "... ... ...it's your nose." Apparently that wasn't satisfactory, though, because then he began touching his upper lip furiously and saying, "there's a bug here! A bug! I CAN FEEL IT!!!" And, really, how can you argue with somnolent logic like that? I hate to admit that I actually looked (smacks forehead), then hissed at him gently encouraged him to go back to sleep.

And now for something completely unrelated: I like Rose and Radish just as much as the next person. But $34 for a single napkin? Isn't that a bit much? Are they individually handmade by Belgian unicorns or something?