"What's different about me today?" I say to my boyfriend, putting my hand on my hip and discreetly flashing off the new bangle that he bought me.
The look on his face-- naked panic.
"What's different about you?" He repeats slowly--trying to buy himself enough time for a head start with a once-over.
"Yes, there's something different about me," I say- pointing my eyes at my wrist where the shiny new bracelet rests on my arm.
"Your hair's a mess," he blurts out. I gasp so he corrects, "Your hair is-- different today."
"That's not it." I say, pulling the hair tie out and re-bunning my hair so it's not all over the place. The bangle clinks against my wrist and I feel like he'll definitely get it now because I never wear bracelets.
"Guess again," I say.
"You're not wearing make-up," he guesses and I shake my head but he adds, "Because you're beautiful and you don't need it."
"Come on-- this is easy," I tell him. "What's NEW about me?" I hint. He just gave me this bracelet as a gift less than an hour ago-- I didn't put it on right away because it was packaged. I push my shoulder and arms forward in a fashionista pose.
In rapid-fire succession he says; "Your eyes are different, eye makeup? No. You're not wearing a bra-- You are wearing a bra? Your clothes are...are-- Your boobs got bigger?" he guesses.
I wave my head no, no, no, no, no.
He locks eyes with me and squints-- the way a poker player does when he's trying to read the guy who just re-raised him.
"Can I see the difference?" he asks carefully because my legs are obscured by the counter that sits in between us.
"Yes you can see the difference right now."
He studies my face.
"It's not on my face," I tell him and his eyes drop to my chest. "It's not anything with my boobs either."
"What ELSE is there?!" he asks, throwing up his hands exasperated.
I hold up my wrist and shake it in front of him.
"Bangle!" he says, flooded with relief.
"Bangle! It's the bangle I got you and it looks very nice," he tells me.
The look on his face-- naked panic.
"What's different about you?" He repeats slowly--trying to buy himself enough time for a head start with a once-over.
"Yes, there's something different about me," I say- pointing my eyes at my wrist where the shiny new bracelet rests on my arm.
"Your hair's a mess," he blurts out. I gasp so he corrects, "Your hair is-- different today."
"That's not it." I say, pulling the hair tie out and re-bunning my hair so it's not all over the place. The bangle clinks against my wrist and I feel like he'll definitely get it now because I never wear bracelets.
"Guess again," I say.
"You're not wearing make-up," he guesses and I shake my head but he adds, "Because you're beautiful and you don't need it."
"Come on-- this is easy," I tell him. "What's NEW about me?" I hint. He just gave me this bracelet as a gift less than an hour ago-- I didn't put it on right away because it was packaged. I push my shoulder and arms forward in a fashionista pose.
In rapid-fire succession he says; "Your eyes are different, eye makeup? No. You're not wearing a bra-- You are wearing a bra? Your clothes are...are-- Your boobs got bigger?" he guesses.
I wave my head no, no, no, no, no.
He locks eyes with me and squints-- the way a poker player does when he's trying to read the guy who just re-raised him.
"Can I see the difference?" he asks carefully because my legs are obscured by the counter that sits in between us.
"Yes you can see the difference right now."
He studies my face.
"It's not on my face," I tell him and his eyes drop to my chest. "It's not anything with my boobs either."
"What ELSE is there?!" he asks, throwing up his hands exasperated.
I hold up my wrist and shake it in front of him.
"Bangle!" he says, flooded with relief.
"Bangle! It's the bangle I got you and it looks very nice," he tells me.