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MoC and I are closet gamblers – we’ll bet on just about anything. We bet on the weather. We bet on reality TV, we bet on sports. Because we’re also big spenders, the bet is a dollar. Recently we started keeping track of our bets by actually writing them down – because I can never remember and MoC cheats. Or the other way around.

MoC and I went to lunch today because I escaped work early, but we had to wait for a table so we were sitting outside. I know and we didn’t turn to dust – it’s a miracle.

Me: You have a smudge on your face. No, the left side. It’s probably a booger. Oh, you got it.

MoC: I never get boogers on the left side of my face, only the right.

Me: Ohhh, I think I just figured out why you like David better.

MoC: You think?

She’s had a headache for a couple days and because I’m very empathetic, I asked her how she was feeling.

MoC: It’s okay.

Me: Maybe your brain got bigger from playing computer Scrabble.

MoC: Maybe it’s a tumor.

Me: Or a kitten! And it’s little claws are trying to get a grip …

MoC: Eww. I think I’d rather have the tumor.

Me: Wanna bet on it? I bet KITTEN!! *

And later, after we were finally seated and she blew her straw paper at me and hit me in the eye (I had my glasses on), she tried to ask the waitress for raspberry tea, but it came out as everything except raspberry tea. So I mocked her, because that’s my job.

MoC: I know what I’m saying.  I’m the one with the brain tumor. Oh. Wait …

Me: I think it just grew a centimeter …

That one earned me a fist bump.

MoC knows I’m not a shopper and she knows I’m not into crafts and can only tolerate antique shows once or twice a year. Still, she torments me occasionally – because she can. Earlier this week MoC told me about a doll show she wants to go to because she’s looking for a doll that she had as a kid. She found it a few years ago, still in the original box with the original price ($3.95) on it. It was selling for $125 and she didn’t buy it. Now she can’t find it again.

Me: What time is the doll show you’re dragging me to tomorrow?

MoC: Oh, I forgot about that!

Me: ARGH!! You’re kidding me, right?

MoC (evil smile): You’ll never know.

David gets to see this face. It’s sweet and smiley and happy.

But me? I get this face …

scary MoC

On second thought, I probably deserve it.

*Because I’m positive MoC doesn’t have a brain tumor, I think my chances are pretty good to win this bet. Which would be awesome because A) I’d have a dollar! and B) MoC hates kittens even more than she hates puppies.