Getting six hours of sleep is a privilege.

The sentence, "Honey, could you take his foot out of my pocket?" sounds normal.

You are used to doing everything one-handed.

The thought of your mother-in-law coming over for a few hours is a pleasant one.

The list of bodily fluids that disgust you has shortened, possibly to zero.

Your idea of romance is hand-holding.

You answer the question "How are you?" with "We're fine."

You decide whether a shirt is wearable not based on sweatiness, but based on how well the spit-up stains match the shirt's main color.

You see a slender teenage girl walking down your street, and you think, "Hey, I wonder if I could interest her in... babysitting?"