“Were you on a date?” I don’t mean to ask this, but it’s better than throwing a snuggle invitation at him.
He leans closer. “You should go get in bed. You look cold.”
“I’m okay right here.”
He grunts, and then I feel a second blanket wrapping around me. He tucks me in like a burrito and quietly says, “I was at the hospital. Get some sleep.”
I do, and I dream of Drew the whole night.
THURSDAY
Drew: Was this really necessary?
Drew: *large framed photo of cat wearing an adorable beanie mounted on the wall*
Me: It was absolutely necessary.
Drew: I’m failing to see how.
Me: It boosts morale. You don’t want to live in a house low on morale, do you?
Drew: Ever since you moved in, my house seems to be bursting with it.
Me: Do you actually want me to take it down?
Drew: …No.
FRIDAY
Drew: Where is it???
Me: I don’t know to what you are referring.
Drew: The mug. My mug. What did you do with it?
Me: Andrew, we have so many mugs. How could I possibly know which mug you’re talking about?
Drew: You know…white…looks like a snowman…has a carrot nose? Was on a shelf above my bedroom door and now it’s gone?
Me: Ohhhhhhhhhh.
Me: You mean this one?
Me: *picture of me drinking out of the mug at the
salon with a devious smirk*
Drew: Put it back…or else…
Drew: *picture of Drew holding a Sharpie with the cap off up to beanie-cat picture*
Me: You wouldn’t!!
Drew: You have until midnight to return my mug.
Drew: P.S. I called in takeout from the burger place you like with the nasty fries. Can you stop on the way home and grab it?
Me: Only if we can rent that new movie.