It was Sunday morning and my girlfriend and I were eating breakfast on the couch.
“Could you stop shaking the couch?” I asked. You see, my girlfriend has a bit of the Jimmy Legs where she twitches her leg. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, but sometimes, she gets the Jimmy Legs so bad that I feel like I’m sitting on one of those vibrating massage chairs.
“I’m not doing anything,” she insisted.
I looked over and it didn’t appear her legs were moving. But, she also had a blanket on her lap so I really couldn’t tell. I was unconvinced.
“Are you sure?”
Now, she was getting a tiny bit annoyed. “Of course I’m sure.”
Then, the couch started shaking again. “Don’t you feel that?” I asked.
“Maybe someone is moving furniture,” I said.
“Construction?” she offered.
A couple minutes later my Facebook feed was filled with news stories of an earthquake about 200 miles to the north. I showed her my phone. “It was an earthquake.”
“So, it wasn’t me after all?”
Now I have to figure out how to blame the next hurricane on her.