CHAPTER EIGHT
Bart tossed and turned in his sleep. He awoke for had now been the fifth time.
He couldn't try a sixth turning. He decided to get up for the time being.
He did some stretching and combed his hands through his spikey hair, as his weary and baggy eyes stared at the clock.
3:15 AM.
He groaned and made his way to the living area.
He couldn't believe Laura was still up.
Spread across the sofa, chowing down on cold noodles watching the teleshopping infomercials on mute.
"Hey champ, what's keeping you cooking?" she asked, noticing how much Bart was sweating,
"The weather's pretty chill, is it the radiator? I've been meaning to lower the temperature on that" she said.
"How do you do it?" asked Bart.
Laura smiled and leaned her head upside down over the side of the sofa, a small noodle hanging out of her lips, her eyes fixated on her husband.
"Do what?" she said.
Bart leaned over and took the loose noodle out of her mouth, kissed her on the lips, then deposited the noodle back into his mouth.
"Hang with the baddest of boys?" said Bart, sporting an alluring and mischievous grin.
"Because I know you're just too good to be totally bad" said Laura, reaching out for Bart's nose with her finger and squeezing it.
"You reckon Lisa's kids will be able to handle Krusty next weekend?" said Bart as Laura got up, and offered him a seat on the couch.
"They can handle anything. They've got Simpson blood…their blood runs righteously red. A brave color, a strong color. It isn't as yellow as our features"
Bart wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked his hands through her hair.
"How did I do it? Meet you, make Maize, make it all work…how?" he asked.
"You put in the hours…amongst putting in other things" Laura said in a playful manner, "And your finest hour is yet to come"
Bart took a small note out of his pyjama pocket, he opened it up.
"What's that?" asked Laura.
"A speech I wrote for Nelson's wake" Bart answered.
"Why didn't it follow the funeral?" asked Laura.
"Not everyone could make it. This will be the official get together to make up for that" Bart said.
"Are you still going? Nelson victimized you. A lot. You don't owe him any charity" said Laura, "Besides, Jimbo will be there and I'd rather not open up the skeletons left in that old closet"
"No, I think I'll take the little poem I wrote and use it at the get-together with Krusty this weekend"
Laura put on her reading glasses and took a look at the bottom half of the eulogy speech. Bart sat back and admired the sensational sight of his wife looking like the kind of formal librarian fantasies he and his father would often think about when withdrawing books back in the day.
"Bart, these are lyrics from a TV show" Laura said.
"I know…but they'll remind Krusty of times spent in television. Forever his home y'know?"
"These specific lyrics will make him feel a bit old given how many years they'll take him back to" said Laura.
"think that emphasizes the point of all this" said Bart, taking the glasses off of Laura's face and planting his lips delicately onto hers once again, before disembarking and moving his lips towards her right ear.
"We're all a little older" Bart whispered into his wife's ear as the pair locked into an embrace and allowed their passion for each other to ignite.
