Yesterday I had a fierce craving for a Sprite. I don't know why - it just sounded so refreshing and crisp and delicious. Of course, I was too lazy to actually go to the gas station to get one, so I resorted to telling Gllen every time he walked through the room, "I want a Sprite!" and he'd walk by without much comment, onward to whatever errand he was on. After I declared for the sixth time "I want a Sprite!" he stopped, looked at me, and stated:
"I'm a Sprite. I'm whimsical, happy and magical."
I grinned and rolled my eyes.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and said "I'm about to perform magic right now and make smoke come out of my mouth."
He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and walked out onto the porch.
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