“Mom, I’m neatening up my room! My new color scheme: black, white and silver. So, here’s the deal: I’ll try to keep it picked up as long as you promise not to throw away any of my crap. Deal?”
She waltzes out the door and curtseys. Batting her eyelashes coquettishly at me, she looks over her shoulder to ask, “Miss me? Yeah, I know that’s a ‘hatorical’ question.”
“You mean rhetorical?” I ask the empty space left behind. Silence. She’s already on to the next project.
My answer? Yes, Tara, I did.