This morning, I'm reading the newspaper, shaking my head in dismay. I've left a few stray bagel crumbs on the counter. I'm sipping my coffee in my favorite mug, a gift from my sweet friend Kelly, that sums me up in two sentences: "All I want is a little attention. That's all." Just a little recognition is plenty for the SJG. I don't need the fanfare, the parade, the national spotlight. A neon billboard would do. Anyway, I'm considering the state of the world, and I hate to be a buzzkill on a Saturday, but things could be better. I look up and notice that longtime hubby is having a moment of deep reflection. He clears his throat. He's about to say something wise. Perhaps a comment about March Madness and his brackets? Maybe a soliloquy on re-setting the pool pump post-power outage?
"Your hair looks good today."
"Do tell!"
"Nice lift. Good volume."
"Well, thank you, honey."
"Not to imply that it doesn't look good every day. But today, it looks really good."
"I applaud your observational skills. I'm touched. I'm humbled."
"Don't get carried away."
"I'll try not to. I can't make any promises."
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