Sean was getting the table ready for dinner–we eat at a little table in the kitchen that has to be cleared off and pulled out in order to seat two people–and I said to him, “Make sure there’s room for me.”
“What if I don’t want to?” he said.
“Well then, I guess I won’t eat with you. You’ll be all alone.”
“You act like that’s a bad thing.”
I made to smack him in the head with my plate, and he blocked. He was grinning as he moved from the stove to the table with his food. I made a disapproving noise, something like an exasperated growl. It’s the noise I make when I want to be mad but can’t quite pull it off. Sean has the best smile in the world. Whenever he grins I want to grab his face and either squeeze his dimples or kiss him. (Or both!) It’s hard to be cross with him when he’s grinning.
“If you weren’t so cute I wouldn’t put up with you,” I scolded him, spooning my own dinner onto my plate. “The woman on MSN says to get rid of people like you.”
This sent Sean into fits of laughter. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” And he couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s so absurd,” he managed, “that I can’t even come up with a smart-ass remark!”