Saturday. The Lad is building me a new laptop, because my old laptop can only run Windows 98 and stops working if you try to do anything really exciting like open three windows at the same time.
I sit at our massive dining room table and watch him tinker around with things. He pulls a CD out of the drive and brings it up to his face with a delicate, caressing gesture.
“Did you just kiss that CD?” I ask.
“I was testing it for heat,” he explains. “The lips are the best heat detectors.”
Suddenly I am re-examining every kiss we’ve ever had.