Wow, what a beautiful sunny morning today! In response to the psychiatrist's advice, we've been for a walk in the country. Wilson agreed as soon as I suggested it, which is a bit of a surprise; whenever I suggest doing something he doesn't want to do, like stacking the dish washer, he turns slowly to face me, raises his eyebrows and says, 'Hmmm, that doesn't sound like very anteaterly behaviour!' Today, though, we both put on our wooly hats and our scarves and set off to the woods.
It was lovely out, but very cold, and we were both glad to get back. We sat in front of the fire drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and toasted ants sprinkles.
While we were sitting there, Wilson announced that he was going to tell me a joke. After a number of false starts and forgetting of the punchline (it seems that he's not a natural joke-teller, or maybe it was just performance anxiety) he finally asked me:
"Why don't anteaters get ill?"
Me: "I don't know; why don't anteaters get ill?"
W: "Because they're full of... antybodies!" He could hardly tell me the punchline for laughing - a bit of hot chocolate actually came out of his nose, and he slid out of his chair on to the floor, helpless with laughter.
He thinks this is the funniest joke in the world, ever. Hours later and he is still giggling quietly to himself, his shoulders shaking as he tries to suppress his mirth.
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