You guys, I think I’m psychic.
No, smartasses, I did not misspell “psycho”. And don’t think I didn’t hear you think that!
Ahem. Now then. For those of you who are still in my good graces, I believe I was about to offer a demonstration of my powers?
ME: (writing a post)
HIM: (pops in) Hey.
ME: Nope. (gestures) To whatever you’ve got going on.
ME: (sighs, stops typing) (ticking off) Nope, maybe, purple, and—if pressed—later today, but you’ll have to get started by yourself.
HIM: O-kay. I was just going to ask if you’d checked skype. I sent you a list of meal ideas.
ME: (beaming) Nope!
HIM: So… do you have any other meal ideas? Because I’m headed to the store—
ME: Keep going, this is fun!
HIM: I don’t even know what question I could ask…
ME: Fine, let me look at skype. (reads) That looks fine. Do we have tomatoes?
HIM: I think we’re out. I can get some.
ME: Ask me what kind.
HIM: I’ll just get romas.
ME: No, I want the purple heirloom—
HIM: I’m getting the romas.
HIM: Can you think of anything else? Because I’d like to get going, but I want to start a grocery list. Maybe you could help with that?
ME: (sighs) I might, later today. But you’ll have to get started by yourself.
I really shouldn’t be wasting this gift on parlor tricks.