Charged

Charged


“That’s what I love about you.”

“What? My phone charger?”

‘You know what I meant, what you did right now, moving your charger plug to your side so I can get to mine more easily on my side of the bed.”

“O that, well now that you have spelled it out like that, that’s ‘cause’ hotel rooms aren’t very clever sometimes.”

“And they say you are outspoken and opinionated, what do they know.”

I smile at that last remark, since I had often heard myself described as patient and understanding from family, but equally as stubborn and overconfident.
He is family too I thought, his last remark proves it.

Apparently women with too much humor aren’t always a good catch for men with big egos, so luckily for me, his ego is just the right size for both of us.

“So I take it that means that you like me then.” I half smile and wink in his direction, whilst throwing back my now too long brown hair comically but semi-alluringly -and in a way that felt like it was too much on purpose.

‘Cute, yeah, you could say that baby, or a little bit more than like maybe since you understand me so well.”

“O, so you ‘like’ like me then. Thanks, baby.” I blush, but am internally radiant

“So, do you want to go to this breakfast get together that the priest is organising? Only if you want to, we could go somewhere else, I know it’s a little early in the day for you.”

He looks at me appraisingly.

I quickly re-apply my lip gloss, take a final appraising look at myself in the mirror to make sure the dress is not unflattering, do a speedy Gonzales content check of my purse contents (all my usual make up check lists for later damage control) and say: “Great, let’s go.”

Charged