My husband is vying for a spot on my upcoming album.

“Have you spoken with him yet [my producer] about my song?”

Although he has been singing this one as long as I’ve known him, Peter recently must have gone online to find the full lyric, for he came downstairs the other morning singing the whole chorus:

Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble
When you’re perfect in every way
I can’t wait to look in the mirror
Cause I get better looking each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a hell of a man
Oh Lord It’s hard to be humble,
But I’m doing the best that I can

Clearly the thrill of knowing the whole lyric has brought a new surge to Peter’s enthusiasm for the song. The other night I heard him starting it up for the umpteenth time right outside our bedroom door.

“Hold on for a minute, Honey!” I called out.

I recently acquired a set of musician earplugs for sleeping since I have become a light sleeper in this second half of my tenure. As Peter crossed the threshold I finished fitting them into my ears.

“Okay now! All set! Sing on!”