 Yeah, he would, when we were around, pretend like the kitchen floor was lava. I can't go in the kitchen. My footing's not strong. Ah, vinyl flooring? Yeah. And he's like, you know, that house we lived in in Ponce de Leon, I can't go on the floor. That'll all slip and fall and all this stuff. And as soon as we go to bed, he's like, I'm in the garbage.