Momnesia

AUGUSTA, GA. - I'm manning a table with my coworkers, and the sun is in my eyes.

"Ugh, it's burning my face off," I grumble.

"You can move the pop-up banner to block the sun," M. comments.

But I only got four hours of sleep last night, and it's honestly less effort to let my face melt.

"Eh, that would require moving," I joke.

He grins, gets up, and slides it over to block my face from the death rays turning it into Jello: "Is that a subtle hint that I should do it for you?"

"No," I laugh. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Geez, it's like being married," he chuckles.

The sun is still in my eyes. 

I grin: "Well, then, here's where I tell you you're not good enough."

I move the banner over another foot, then sit back down.

"Yep," he deadpans. "We're officially married."

B. stands up. "See you. I'm going back upstairs."

"Wish I could go with you," M. says.

I give him a faux glare: "But now we have to have an argument. About your mother."

"Well, I wouldn't want to miss that."