"Hey," I said.
"What?" The Boss replies. She's too engrossed in whatever pithy sitcom is on the TV to really be interested, but I appreciate the effort.
"What?" she says again. She looks at what I'm holding. "No! I don't want to feel that."
"Come on," I counter, goading her. "Feel it. Just once."
"Nuh-uh," she says, shaking her head. She turns her head back to the TV.
"You know you want to." I hold it out in front of her face. "Feel it. Feel it. Come on. Feel it."
"Get that thing out of my face!" she yells. "I said I don't want to feel it!"
"Feeeeeeeeeel it!" I'm shaking it now, wiggling it in front of her face still. She can't help it anymore; she starts laughing.
"Stop it, Mike! I'm serious. Get it away from me."
"Just feel it once. Once. I want you to see how hard and heavy it is."
"I can tell just by looking at it. I don't need to feel it to know that," she says definitively.
"Just once?" She shakes her head in the negative. "Just once and I'll leave you alone."
"No." She levels her eyes at me, and sets her mouth in a serious expression. "No."
I fall silent for a moment. I don't want to be shut down this easily. "Just once? Please?"
"Mike, I've already felt it before. I don't need to feel it again."
"Fine. I'll put it away."
I set my hardcover first-edition copy of Stephen King's "Nightmares & Dreamscapes" down on the coffee table, defeated.
"Some other night, then."
"Yeah, okay, Mike."
Just what exactly were you thinking of?
Have a good weekend, everyone.