“I think that we’re the bourgeoisie.”
“The what now?”
“You know. Like Lenin and the Communist Revolution. The great experiment of the proletariat overthrowing the bourgeoisie. I think we’re the bourgeoisie. We’re the bad guys. Look at this house.”
“…..yeeeeeeeaaaah?” My Beloved’s eyebrows wag.
“We have two bedrooms we don’t even use.”
“They’re guest rooms.”
“If having guest rooms makes us bad guys, I think…I can get used to being the bad guys.”
My Beloved rolls over on his half of our new king sized mattress and promptly begins to snore. I lie awake longer, wary in our new house, uncertain when it will begin to feel like home.