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. And has three wives of his own under the Iowa
senior-citizen cohabitation code, one of them-my Aunt Cissy-being still in high
school."
"Richard, I sometimes suspect that you are not always entirely truthful. A
mild bent toward exaggeration."
"Woman, that is no way to talk to your future husband. Behind you is a
terminal. Punch it for Grinnell, Iowa; Uncle Jock lives just outside. Shall we
call him? You talk to him real pretty and he might show you his pride and joy.
Well, dear?"
"You are just trying to get out of taking me back to bed."
"Another waffle?"
"Quit trying to bribe me. Uh, a half, maybe. Split one with me?"
"No. A whole one for each of us."
'"Hail, Caesar!' You're the bad example I've always needed. Once we're
married I'm going to get fat."
"I'm glad you said that. I had hesitated to mention it but you are a bit on
the skinny side. Sharp comers. Bruises. Some padding would help."
I'll omit what Gwen said next. It was colorful, even lyrical, but (in my
opinion) unladylike. Not her true self, so we won't record it.
I answered, 'Truly, it's irrelevant. I admire you for your intelligence.
And your angelic spirit. Your beautiful soul. Let's not get physical."
Again I feel that I must censor.
"All right," I agreed. "If that's what you want. Get back into bed and
start thinking physical thoughts
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