Chapter 9 - You and Me

It started with a broken toaster and a missing pair of socks, a chaotic, funny journey that has lasted many blocks, you and me, a mismatched pair, like spaghetti and a shoe, but I wouldn't trade this crazy life for anything, with you, we decided to cook dinner once, a simple meal they said, but you dropped the pasta water and I tripped on the bread, the cat was terrified, of course, and hid behind the door, while a single sausage lonely rolled across the kitchen floor, we laughed until our ribs were sore and ordered in a pizza, and you tried to eat the cheesy crust while wearing a neon teazer, and every day is like a circus in our little rented room, with me acting as the ringmaster and you the dancing broom, remember when we bought that plant and promised it would thrive, but within a week it was the only dead thing alive, you said it needed music and I said it needed shade, now it's just a stick in mud and the strangest mess we made, we tried to rearrange the furniture to give the room a look, but you thought the couch was a giant book, and tried to read the fabric, while I sat upon the floor, trying to balance lamps upon the hinge of the front door, we are magnets for the strange, the bizarre, and the absurd, like the time you argued politics with a very quiet bird, or when I tried to bake a cake without using any flour, and it turned into a weapon that lasted for an hour, we went to the movies and you loudly asked if I was sleeping, while I was actually the one who was quietly weeping, at the saddest part of the film where the donkey meets the king, and you were too busy trying to find a misplaced sterling ring, we are a mess, a riot, a comedy of errors, a daily dose of panic and the tiniest of terrors, you take all the blankets and I take all the space, and we both wake up with a grumpy, funny face, I love the way you laugh at jokes that nobody understands, and the way you try to cook with only your shaky hands, we are two peas in a pod, if the pod was on fire, and you were trying to play a banjo and I was trying to climb a wire, we are chaotic, loud, and probably quite annoying, but this chaotic, loud, funny life is what we are enjoying, I remember when we tried to learn the tango in the hall, you stepped on my foot and I tripped on the wall, and we crashed into the bookshelves and the books flew in the air, you had a dictionary on your head and a teddy bear in your hair, we just laid there laughing while the neighbors knocked below, wondering if we were putting on some kind of stupid show, you are the jam to my peanut butter, if the peanut butter was mouldy, and the jam was in ajar that was incredibly old-y, and I am the salt to your pepper, if the salt was actually sugar, and the pepper was a very enthusiastic cougar, we are a pair of misfits, a match made in a very weird place, but I love seeing the funny expressions on your face, like when you try to eat a lemon and pretend that it's a lime, or when you try to rhyme a word and it makes no sense at all, at any time, we are the reason people lock their doors, and whisper, "who are they?", but we are having too much fun to ever go away, I love the way you try to fix things with only sticky tape, and the way you look when you're trying to escape, from a boring conversation or a very long line, you are entirely yours, and I am entirely mine, together we are a mess, a riot, a truly funny thing, I wouldn't change a single moment, not even the time you tried to sing, with a mouthful of marshmallows and a megaphone, you are the funniest person that I have ever known, and we are the best team, at least in our own heads, even if we sometimes make our own beds, with a mix of pillows and a very loud rug, and you're always demanding a very tight hug, we are a chaotic masterpiece, a work in progress, a, "what were we thinking?" kind of success, I love the way you tell stories that have no ending at all, and the way you try to climb over a very small wall, we are, you and me, a perfectly imperfect pair, a funny, silly, chaotic, and wonderful affair, you're the weirdo that I want to spend my time with, the person I share my stupidest rhyme with, we are a comedy, a farce, a ridiculous, lovely mess, and I wouldn't trade this life for anything, I confess, we are a team, a pair, a unit, a duo, even if you sometimes think that I am a banana or a puppy dog called Huey, we are the kings of the strange, the queens of the odd, a couple of misfits that probably should be banished from the mod, we are you and me, the best kind of disaster, and I hope our future is even faster, and funnier, and crazier, and full of more noise, with all the chaotic and silly and wonderful joys.