I am a Dribbler

I am a dribbler. I would like to say this is a purely somnolent activity but it isn't. I'm like those dolls who's eyes close when you lay them down. Except I dribble. And have real lady parts.

I have never been horizontal and not dribbled: watching tv on the sofa, after a picnic in the park and most embarrassingly, post-coitally.

The only time this is tricky is when embarking on a new relationship or as I like to call it 'continuing to knock about with a boy you're kissing and really really like'. 'S catchier. I have a quirk quota/ratio of no more than 5 a day and generally 1:3. For example, I use my knee as a piano and make up little songs in my head but have impeccable manners, am good with people and am not annoyingly girly. I also write words in the air with my finger, sit with my arm raised, talk to and answer myself prolifically and have over clicky thumbs.

So as you can see, my quota had been reached before we got to laying down and I have run out of good things to make the ratio work. So I have either had to slurp up my dribble noiselessly or wipe it on my arm without it being noticed. Oddly, I think I've got away with it. Or, he also has impeccable manners.

This morning I found dribble BETWEEN my eyebrows. How is that even possible?