Saturday 9th March 2013by Chelsea
Scene: Michael and I in bed, pre-sleep. He’s playing a game on his phone and I’m pretending to read a Discworld novel. I make a snarky comment about his game, and he gives me a sidelong squinty-glance.
Me: Don’t glance at me!
Michael: I’ll glance at the pope if I want to.
Me: You can’t. There isn’t one.
Me: (singsong) You can’t look at the Poh-ope.
After which he, understandably, resumes ignoring me and goes back to the game on his phone.