Curiosity

Those of you know know me well know that I'm cursed with an epic curiosity. The kind of curiosity that could wipe out the entire feline race, God forbid. Those who know me very well know that this is apparently very amusing to exploit, by letting me know that there's something to know... and then not telling me it.

My boy did this to me last night, curse his smug sockses, by very pointedly telling me he was emailing someone, and then laughing until I entered "Curiosity mode". Which goes sort of like this: "Oh go on, tell me! Please tell me? Fine then, don't tell me, I don't care anyway.

...

YOU'RE SO FREAKIN' MEAN!"

He was even more exasperating today (which I don't mind, some exasperation can actually be fun), laughing - no, giggling - while I begged him to tell me what was going on. Turns out the email was to a friend asking if we could borrow an apartment in the Spring... so... apparently we're flying to Paris. Actual Paris, the actual Paris in France.

So, y'know. I let him off this time.