As I retrieve my charcoal-grey fleece from the closet at my physiotherapist’s clinic — more by feel than by sight, given this collection of indistinguishable black and dark-grey outerwear — I see a face peering out at me over the rod. I get out my phone.
I turn around to see the three-in-one receptionist, laundrician, and cashier looking at me oddly. But when I show her what I have, she gets out *her* phone.
I do that too!
My husband thinks I’m silly.
I laugh. She speaks again.
I figure you have to enjoy the little pleasures. Right?
That, and watch out for snakes.