“Butt cheek of dawn?” he asks, looking slightly perplexed. “That’s not a phrase, Chuck.” “Sure it is. Why is butt crack of dawn a phrase, but not butt cheek? What’s the difference?” “It’s crack of dawn, Chuck-let,” he argues, but I shake my head and hold up a finger. “I’ve heard butt crack of dawn used plenty of times.” “Yeah, by you.” Spencer shakes his head at me, and then sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.
