Guessing Game

My husband likes to play guessing games. No, guessing game. “What song am I playing?” he asks as he flares his nostrils. In and out, in and out in some seemingly random movement that's supposed to match the rhythm of a song that I am to readily recognize. Early on in our marriage, he would stump me every time. Six years later, I'm wiser. Much wiser. It's the same song every time: “Jingle Bells.” I'm so good, that when he asks me now, “What song am I playing?” I don't even have to look.

Eyes on the back of my head.

Flare on, honey.