On Sunday night I needed to go to the grocery store and usually Dave and I run our errands together. Not really sure why, I guess partly because we always have, partly because we [brace yourselves] just like being together.
And then, for no reason and not even sure why I was saying it, I said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Seriously? You don’t want to go? Because I wasn’t even sure why I was saying it.”
“You were reading my mind.”
“Yup. Guess so.”
“Read it again.” Dave closed his eyes tight and put a finger on his temple, as if to transmit to me a message.
I laughed, no idea what to say, so I said, “Okay, fine, babe, I’ll bring you home some chocolate milk.”
Dave stared at me open-mouthed.
“What?”
He kept staring.
“Dude, you’re fucking with me, I didn’t read your mind.”
“I was thinking chocolate!!”
He continues to be impressed. But it’s not that incredible. Between sex and biking and chocolate, I had pretty good odds. Not that I thought about that at the time. Maybe I did read his mind.
In related news, it’s apparently National Chocolate Day.
