Mr. W’s lying on the bed close to where I’m on the computer. I leaned in and touched the tip of my tongue to his upper arm. “It’s a good thing you’re not frozen,” I said. He looked quizzical. I explained, “Cuz then my tongue would stick to you.”
“Yes, it would,” he said. “I used to get my tongue stuck on the window.”
“Why were you licking a window?”
“Cuz in Chicago, it’d get really cold and a thick layer of ice would form on the window, and I’d try to lick it off.”
I paused, then immediately swiveled in the desk chair toward the computer. “I gotta blog this,” I mumbled.
“This was when I was little!” he protested, seeing I was about to make a fool out of him publically online. “It was really cold in Chicago! This was before those cartoons came out where people’s tongues were stuck on poles, so I didn’t know that it could happen. Those cartoons had to come from somewhere! Cuz it’s true! People do things like that!”

But it was too late. All those justifications just added to an already forming blog post.