I was finishing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen when Lauren came down the steps. The kids were all in bed, asleep for the night.
"What do you want to do?" She asked.
I dried my hands. "How about you and I...you know." I raised my eyebrows.
She rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think about?"
"What? I can't help it. It is partly your fault. You always look so hot."
She looked at herself in her tattered T-shirt and sweat pants. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail.
"Oh right." she said sarcastically. "I am so hot in this."
"You are." I said.
"I don't feel hot." She said rubbing her eyes and yawning. "Some days these boys wear me out."
"Well I think you look great."
"Really? You are only saying that because you want something."
"No. You know I still think you are attractive."
" I know. Sometimes I just don't see what you see."
I thought, that maybe, I was winning her over. You know what I'm saying. I put my arms around her waist and gently kissed her forehead. She did not pull away.
"You are like a priceless piece of art work. You are beautiful. You are like a Picasso or the Mona Lisa or any of those old masterpieces hanging in a museum." I said.
She looked up at me. "Really?" She asked.
"Yeah." I kissed her neck.
"Okay." She said. "But just so you know, those paintings, hanging in the museums they are to be looked at." She nudged me away. "You are not allowed to touch those old masterpieces."
That night I really enjoyed episodes of The Office and 30 Rock.