On Seeing Being Me

It's late. I'm up and it is definitely time to go to bed. I'm just checking a few sites and e-mail addresses before I climb into the bed next to my husband. Just as I'm directing the mouse to close out the last browser window, he crosses the threshold of this room by a foot length. He claps two times very quickly, waits a split second for a reaction or response then says on his way out of the room, "Sorry. I was you for a second."

Then he giggled.