“Honey, you’re going to fall.”
“You are. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“If I fall, will you catch me?”
“You have to stop testing me. You know how I feel about you, no matter how small you are.”
“And what if I get smaller?”
“But how do you know?”
She gave him a look. The look. He knew he should stop testing her, if he didn’t want to spend the rest of this magnificent Saturday trapped in one of her tallest boots. He didn’t know how she had gotten the idea to punish him in such a way. Trapped inside all that leather, or the other ones, if she chose the cruelty-free ones, the shiny purple, hot ones. They offered no air circulation when worn, so they smelled much more like her. He looked down at himself, and saw that his body liked the idea.
Her look intensified when she noticed his mental process spelled out on his crotch. She narrowed her eyes for effect, and shook her head slowly.
“Don’t you even think about it. I’m not cleaning my boots again.”
He gave her a quick, sheepish smile, and lost his balance for a second.
“Be careful!” she said, and watched his little arms shoot from his sides as he waved them, and regained his footing. “Why do you do this, Little One? And why do you do this when I’m trying to read my book?”
“I’m not stopping- Oops. There. I’m not doing anything to prevent your important reading. I’m just having a little fun… getting limber and stuff. Gotta maintain my figure for you.”
She arched her right eyebrow at that. “Really? Is that why you organize raiding parties to the cookie jar? If it wasn’t for me, your loving wife, you’d be a rolling butterball. You would have tumbled off my foot a half hour ago.”
He stopped looking down at their bed, many of his feet below, and looked up at her face, many of his feet ahead, and smiled broadly, lovingly. Her heart jumped when he smiled. What a face, she thought. And all mine. She was beginning to forget her book.